Armageddon
by Dhark
Summary: Working title, work in progress. All original with influence taken from Dragonlance. RR if you please. When dark presence grows in the north, the outlying kingdoms must take action or face annihilation.
1. Chapter 1

The ancient Kingdom of M'alketh was once a rich, thriving land of men that dominated the northern regions of the great continent of Khalduum. Farmlands yielded healthy crops, and tradesmen would often visit the larger cities and towns to hawk their latest goods and services. However, after a long line of wise kings, one became taken by a seed of corruption. During his rule, his Kingdom waged war with an army fighting beneath the banner of the black Dragonlord, Dra'keth. Being both the Royal Advisor and Captain of M'alketh's military might, the King's right hand departed in what turned into an absence that spanned half a decade. During this absence, a stranger, wise and knowledgeable beyond his apparent years, stepped in to the vital role of guiding the King's decisions. His name was Lycius.

Using half-truths and promises of power, Lycius quickly gained the King's favor, and ear. The prosperity and growth in power that M'alketh achieved as a result became addicting, the King desired more, and when Dra'keth's forces retreated from the field of battle and thusly allowed the former advisor to return, the King denied him the title, instead turning to Lycius as his new right hand. It was then that the first shadows began to fall over the lands. The crops started to wither and die, the trade routes became plagued by thieves and marauders. Many times the King's former advisor spoke up, trying to reveal the source of the corruption, but just as many times Lycius' whispered promises of power blinded the King to the truth, and to Lycius' loyalties to the growing powers of darkness.

Unable to stand for the corruption, the Captain of the King's military might started a coup. Those able to see the corruption for what it was stood by their Captain, fighting those blinded by ambition, greed, and power. Under the advice given to him by Lycius, the King reached out for new allies to help crush the traitorous armies, and soon the ranks of men were bolstered by the likes of orcs, goblins, and trolls, all flying the banner of the black Dragonlord, yet pledging their loyalty to M'alketh. Under the growing weight of the King's armies, the Captain was soon defeated, executed for his treachery in front of the public.

Two years passed after the war's end, and the King fell ill. While priests and those skilled in the arts of medicine came, neither treatment nor prayers could seem to break the disease taking hold. Lycius stepped in quickly to carry out his role, acting as the voice to the public since the King was no longer able to stand before his council. Fearing that others might sense his weakness and attempt to overthrow his rule, the King sent for his newfound ally, Dra'keth, and opened the borders of M'alketh fully to the Dragonlord's armies.

The Dragonlord's armies entrenched themselves within M'alketh, and when all was in place, they moved swiftly to overthrow and destroy the Kingdom once ruled by men. The King was slain by Lycius himself, who presented the dagger to Dra'keth. The Dragonlord welcomed his chief Warlock, and Second in Command back to his position personally.

Corruption continued to spread through the lands, and soon M'alketh fell to the powers of darkness.

Dra'keth was more than pleased when the opportunity arose to seize the once prosperous Kingdom. The true might of M'alketh never did rest with the strength of the former King's military, but rather with the fortress that lay at the heart of the Kingdom itself. At one time, M'alketh was simply a volcano, but age and time saw the shifting of the earth leave the massive peak inactive. The channels which once brought molten rock to the surface long since dry. The fortress that now dominated the lands was nigh impenetrable. Never in its history had an attacking army succeeded in toppling its defenses, and the natural fires that could be found made the armories contained within terribly effective.

Now, the fortress was his. Smoke began to bellow from the mountain's peak, causing it to look as though the volcano itself was active once more. The catacombs beneath M'alketh turned into a lair for his warlocks to practice the dark arts, using the vast chambers to create summoning circles to call forth familiars and other foul creatures. The army of darkness began to grow stronger, and the balancing powers of the world took notice.

Treaties were hastily drafted and a council of the five most prominent Kings of the land was called forth to discuss the growing threat to the north. While Dra'keth was invited, it was Lycius who had been sent on behalf of his ruler to represent M'alketh. Two of the five Kings motioned to wage war on the Dragonlord, and while suspicions weighed heavily against the warlock, the deaths of the two kings from unknown disease could never be traced back to the ambassador of M'alketh. The council, however, had been decisive in calling for an immediate cessation of bolstering military strength in the northlands, as well as a decreased military presence in the surrounding lands. Terms which Lycius assured were both unfounded, but would be complied with.

Hostilities seemed to ebb as the dark presence filling the skies to the north relaxed, though it was only on the surface. The catacombs were a hive of activity as the Dragonlord moved on with the next stage of advancement. Warlocks worked hard during the days, and long into the nights, as magic was manipulated to create dark creatures for Dra'keth's armies. Based upon a vision received in a dream, the Dragonlord had instructed they strive to create a beast that was human-like in build and size, yet boasted the power of the dragons of old. He called them his 'Drek'kan'.

To keep them from being too powerful in the rare case they turned on their masters, the Drek'kan were divided by classes. Some would be skilled assassins and thieves while others were granted superior intellect for magic casting. Others still were granted superior strength and skill as front-line warriors, and a select few were trained in the arts of healing. All of them, he instructed his warlocks, were to be created with their souls bound to the great dragon's will to ensure their blind obedience. Lycius, as chief warlock and a master summoner, was to oversee the project personally. He tasked six of his best with the army's creation, and sought to tame a dark creature of his own as a familiar.


	2. Chapter 2

_Darkness…_

The creature in the center of the chamber stirred as its eyes were opened to the world for the first time. As its vision began to focus, the cold stone floor became uncomfortable enough to urge it to its feet. Steel scraped rock as it flexed its muscles, digging the metallic talons that tipped its feet. Slowly, its mind began to register the world around it, and with that came the torrent of noise. Memories and thoughts not belonging to it flooded its mind, which brought with it thought processes, history, identity, and self awareness.

_I am he, he is myself. I am me. I am Xodius._

He let the world around him come into focus. The cavern was dark, save for the fading glow from a summoning circle that covered the circumference of the rocky floor. The runes were intricate, and the words that they made up were vaguely familiar to him. Xodius snorted, turning his blood red eyes to gaze upon himself.

Dimensions and units of measuring appeared in his mind, as did words that were strange, yet familiar at the same time. He stood at a modest three feet tall at the shoulders, yet from snout to tail was seven feet in length. Ebony scales covered his body, with a spiked crest fanning from the back of his skull. The spines that formed the crest, as well as the sharp ridge that ran the length of his back on down to the tip of his tail, glinted with a metallic sheen that matched that of his talons. A brief testing scratch against the chamber floor brought a loud shriek of steel against rock, the resulting sparks glinting in his eyes. Along his back were folded powerful wings which he stretched out to test. The motion seemed natural, yet as he looked over the membranes that spread before him, there was a slightly amused emotion that took hold as they were revealed to be tattered beyond logical use. Something in the back of his mind, however, told him that the state of his wings was not an issue for flight, for him, and he folded the appendages along his back comfortably.

_Why am I here?_

His mind became aware of another presence nearby, one which had been supplying him with a vast number of the memories and thoughts that now filled his consciousness. He allowed himself to reach out with his own thoughts, letting them meld with the other consciousness in the room, finding a name. He allowed his thoughts to be heard.

_Warlock Lycius. Why have you summoned me here?_

A soft white light grew in the room from crystals that were perched atop golden stands, chasing the darkness into the corners and revealing a rather intrigued human. Xodius shifted to take in the warlock before him. The man seemed frail, pitifully so, skin pulled tight over a skeleton with very little in the way of muscle to add definition to the form. The skin's tone was a sickly pale from lack of sunlight, and the way the human gripped the staff he leaned so heavily against, Xodius had a hard time believing he could stand at all. Raven-black hair, unkempt at best, reached down to his shoulders, a few stray strands cascading down to partially obscure the ice blue eyes set in his skull. The depth which those eyes could penetrate were enough to convince Xodius that the warlock, while perhaps physically weak, was very capable with his own craft to provide some sense of a threat.

The rest of the warlock was hidden beneath black robes that would have been simple in nature, were it not for the gold-threaded patterns that seemed to hold little, or no, significance whatsoever beyond their aesthetic value.

"Do you speak, pet?"

Xodius snorted softly. The voice that reached the eardrums tucked in the side of his skull was raspy and harsh, it was difficult not to simply laugh and turn away.

_I speak as only I can, warlock, though your kind would fail to consider it speech._

"I see, I see. A whisper into the minds of others, then, is your method," the warlock rasped softly, more to himself than to the creature before him. "Tell me, then, can you pull thoughts just as easily as you can instill them?"

_I can, yes. I know who you are, Lycius. I know who you serve, as well as what you serve. M'alketh is a truly formidable place to claim as your home and allegiance._

Lycius chuckled softly as he made a slow circle around the creature, taking in all of the wonderfully menacing details. "Oh yes. M'alketh and its new ruler will become the premier power in this world. You will be here, alongside myself, to witness the fall of those who oppose us."

_Your ambitions differ from my own, warlock._ Xodius paused, a faint whisper in the back of his mind telling him something was not quite right. _My will is not entirely my own._

"Of course not," the warlock rasped, "and it shall remain that way for as long as I so wish. I am not a fool, pet, I know that familiars can, and have at times, turned on their masters."

_I still can turn on you, though. Your shackles do nothing to prevent that._

"Yes, but if you do then you will return to the void that spawned you for the rest of eternity."

Xodius found little point in arguing against what was true, however he did issue a soft growl directed at the warlock. Lycius, who's smirk only grew, seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in his little victory.

"Come then, my pet, it is time for you to see what it is you are a part of."

_There is little need, I have seen all there is to see within your mind, warlock. However, if you see it fit to bolster your own ego, feel free to flaunt the Drek'kan. After all, where you lead, I am bound to follow._

"Ah. Such a wonderful thing, servitude," Lycius remarked, moving smoothly across the stone floor towards the doorway that exited the chamber. "You learn your place rather well."

_My place is not here. Your own life is guaranteed from harm by my own talons simply because where I hail from is far worse than what I have thus far seen of here. Do not expect me, however, to accept that you are my master._

"In time, you will. Life here, for you, will be miserable otherwise."

Xodius snorted as he fell in step behind Lycius, letting his mind probe deeper into the warlock's memories. So many of them were fractured; all of them chaotic with very little order to be seen. A brief glimpse into another warlock's mind as it passed nearby seemed to only confirm that the human mind was simply a maze. None of the ones he allowed his own mind to delve into were organized, developed, or capable of comprehending the true power locked away within their psyche._ Pity…._

"I beg your pardon?"

_A glimpse into the mind of humans almost makes me feel pity for your kind, warlock. Almost. So much is lost within it, and the humans unaware of their own selves. Memories displaced old knowledge forgotten in favor of the new. Compared to my kind, it is much like comparing the physical ability of your infants to the adult in his prime._

Lycius frowned noticeably, yet did not turn around to look at the creature following behind him. "Just what are you capable of?"

_Would I bother to tell you the full extent of my abilities if I knew that you could never comprehend them? I think not. However, I assure you, if conflict arose between myself and any of the other creatures your fellow warlocks have summoned into this realm, none of them would remain standing before me._

"You are rather boastful for someone who has yet to prove any of his claims."

_I do not need to prove anything to you, Lycius. Look at yourself and you will see just what it is I mean. Do you have to do anything to convince yourself that you are above the other warlocks in your company? How many of them can say they have been able to manipulate the shadows and hellfire with the skill you perfected so many years ago? Do you, in these times, feel the need to flaunt your power before them so that they can see for themselves they are indeed below you? No, my dear warlock, you are like myself in that you do not need to prove yourself to anyone._

Lycius fell silent as he opened a doorway that led into another vast chamber. Rather than being used for summoning, this one had been converted into a barracks area for the growing Drek'kan forces and the handful of warlocks involved in creating them.

"For your sake," Lycius half-whispered as he closed the door behind Xodius, "you'd better be all that you claim."

The two made their way down the rows of sleeping mats, piles of straw with crudely sewn blankets thrown atop them to afford some comfort. Xodius took the time to study the creatures that occupied them. They were, in spite of all he had seen within Lycius' mind, admittedly impressive in the flesh. Their bodies were built like that of a human, standing an average six feet in height, yet looking at them closely one could see that their size belied their true strength. Rather than skin, ebony scales plated their bodies. With every movement, a soft clicking of the scales setting into place could be heard by the more sensitive ear. Unlike the dragons they had been modeled after, they did not posses wings, though Xodius was certain they were very capable of swift movement on the ground regardless of the terrain.

All of them walked upright on plantigrade limbs, with both hands and feet ending in sharp claws. One of the creatures turned to regard the warlock and pet as they passed, eyes glowing a soft amber which made the thin sliver of a pupil all that more apparent, and as Xodius turned to regard it in like, the creature smirked and showed the sharp set of teeth contained within its draconic maw. A few probes into their minds showed that, while similar in appearance, not all of them were the same. Some had been imbued with stealth and a knowledge of the body and poisons for swift, efficient assassinations. Others possessed massive strength and battlefield tactics for melee skirmishes. The ones that caught his attention the most, though, were the ones which had been imbued with various skills in magic. Pyromancers and arcanists, necromancers, warlocks, and even priests were filtered into the ranks, albeit sparingly due to the sheer power they possessed. As he prowled into their minds, he was shocked that, in spite of the terribly unstructured psyche of the humans, they had managed to create something with an intellect that was wonderfully advanced and capable of wielding its power with devastating efficiency.

Still, not all was right. Within each of the minds he probed, there was a faint essence, almost like a shackle, that kept their wills bound to a force of incredible power. Dra'keth. He owned them like a warlock would a familiar. Not all of them were pleased, yet none were capable of moving against the bond, or their forced master. The power they wielded was formidable, but yet was enough for the great Dragonlord to fear, and his fear was expressed fully with the measures taken to prevent an uprising of his forces.

As they moved deeper into the barracks area, they came to a spot where one Drek'kan was seated alone, a leather-bound tome held open in the palm of one hand as he read. Unlike the others, this one was covered in charcoal scales which seemed almost grey against the light leather armor he wore. Next to him leaned a staff carved meticulously from oak with various patterns that, as Xodius looked longer, took on the appearance of vines and leaves. The detail was superb, very little spared. The mental state that this particular one carried was far more advanced than the rest, who seemed more like mere drones in comparison, yet still there was a large portion that was controlled by an outside force, keeping the beast in check.

As they approached, the Drek'kan looked up from his reading, amber eyes glinting faintly in the flickering light of the wall mounted torches. There was a certain look of apprehension that crossed over the scaled face before the eyes settled on Lycius, and the Drek'kan rose to offer a polite bow.

"This fellow here is Dhark, currently the only shaman within the Drek'kan ranks. Lord Dra'keth felt that such a skill was not entirely needed within his army, and as such…well, Dhark is a fair bit of an anomaly. Still, I feel he will in time prove far more useful than the Dragonlord gives him credit for. Dhark, this is my new familiar and summon."

Dhark nodded faintly, but remained silent as he looked back towards Xodius. Taking a knee, he brought himself down until they were almost snout-to-snout with one another, eyes locked. Xodius refused to move on principle, more out of a sense of pride, Dhark remained still as he studied, however, and when he had concluded, he stood.

"Does it have a name?"

Lycius smirked faintly before he simply shrugged. "He is my pet, I do not plan on referring to him by any other title in the foreseeable future."

_Xodius._

Dhark flickered his glance down to the creature standing in front of him, then back to Lycius. The warlock, however, seemed oblivious. "I see. Well, perhaps when he has earned a title more akin to a name, you will see fit to introduce us both properly."

"Do not think, Dhark, that simply due to your being the only beast of your trade here that you can speak so far out of turn," Lycius snorted. "I can simply have you destroyed."

"You could, yes, Master Warlock, however then you would lose an elementalist skilled in his trade, and Dra'keth would never allow you to prove that such a skill is vital for success."

The warlock's eyes narrowed as he pointed a bony finger at Dhark. "Do not lecture me nor tell me what I already know." He flickered a glance down to Xodius. "Come, there are others to meet, others which will play a far greater role in the building of this army."

_Of course, Warlock._ Xodius turned to glance back at Dhark. _No, he cannot hear me if I do not wish him to, Dhark, and yes I can hear what you are thinking. Perhaps later we can discuss such things away from this human's prying eyes._

Dhark furrowed his brow slightly, as though in thought, but simply nodded before retaking his seat and turning back to his book. Lycius gave the Shaman a rather disgusted look, but motioned for Xodius to follow. They crossed back through the barracks, turning down a small corridor. The passageway opened up further down, with doorways leading off into various rooms. The plaques set in the stone labeled their exact purpose, some for combat training, a few libraries for the magical tomes and scrolls, and there was even a crypt where the necromancers spent their time.

Lycius moved along the doors until arriving at one, the plaque simply depicting the common symbol for fire. He knocked on the door before simply stepping inside and holding the door. "Come on in, I want you to meet two of my more promising students."

Xodius stepped into the room, and immediately became assaulted by a wave of heat. On the far end of the room was a drek'kan with emerald green scales and dark crimson robes. The hood was thrown back to reveal a softer face than the others, and the ice-blue eyes clearly feminine. A blastwave of pure fire was radiating out from where she stood, the inferno rolling and tumbling towards another drek'kan.

The second was a terribly cruel looking beast, his scales blacker than midnight on a new moon. His eyes were glowing a bright gold, the robes that covered him were a dark blue, void of any patterns save for black stitch along the hemline. As the fire rolled towards him, he muttered a soft encantation and countered, a blast of pure shadow exploding to rip the wall of fire apart, leaving both of the spellcasters unscathed.

"Hold, you two. I have someone who I would like to introduce you to."

The two looked up from the battle and regarded Lycius and Xodius for a moment before moving over. As they drew near, Xodius crept his way into their minds. Much like Dhark, they were far advanced over the drones that seemed to be so predominant in the ranks. They also had the same limitations that seemed to infringe on their will, as well, mental blocks that hindered their thought processes and their full potential in their trades. The female was an arcanist, and the intellectual knowledge that was rooted in her mind was incredibly profound. The male was a warlock, though unlike most in his trade had his skills in summoning hampered greatly by the mental intrusion. What he did posses, however, was a wonderfully indepth knowledge in the destructive arts, manipulating shadows and hellfire.

"These two were the first two I brought from the void. Incredibly talented, and amongst the strongest of the first batch of seven, I am proud to introduce you to Arcanist Flyre and, my personal apprentice, Warlock Wrayne."

Flyre smiled as she glanced down at Xodius. "I will have to get to know him later. Wrayne and I were just finishing here, I am off to the library to get some reading done, and a few spells I need to learn and practice."

Lycius nodded slightly and stepped aside so she could pass, turning his focus on Wrayne. "Wrayne, I trust you have been working diligently to perfect your spellcasting?"

Wrayne nodded as he continued to watch Xodius. "I have been, yes, though I have yet to focus on the curses and other such forms of subtle corruption you seem to favor. This is your new familiar?"

"Yes," Lycius said, reaching down to tap a finger lightly on Xodius' head. "This is one which I hope to keep for a long while yet. He shows promise, yet lacks true discipline, I will have plenty of work to do in the months to come to remedy that issue."

"Ah, I see. What does your master in the summit think of him?"

"Mind your tongue, Wrayne. Lord Dra'keth knows what you speak, it would not be wise to cross him. I've spent far too much time working to turn you into a true warlock for you to ruin it."

"A true warlock would be allowed to summon his own familiar, Lycius. You know as well as I that he is limiting me in what I can do. When will you speak on my behalf to let me reach my full potential?"

"You have reached your full potential, you merely have not perfected the basics which will allow you to master your craft, Wrayne. Lord Dra'keth has seen fit to close your mind to an aspect of our trade that is not detrimental to your success, do not become distracted by such trivial issues."

Wrayne snorted softly as he glanced down at Xodius, though nothing more was said as he brushed past the two and into the hallway. The door slammed shut behind, the sound echoing loudly against the rock walls. Xodius could hardly keep from smirking.

_Is your apprentice normally subject to outbursts of that nature?_

"He was the first, and as such there were certain things that pertained to his summoning that were not repeated in the others. When I summoned him, the limitations were placed several days later after Lord Dra'keth had time to observe the true potential of his future army; I honestly believe he still remembers the sensation of not being bound to the will of another. I also think he is trying to express that much to the others, though they, much like Dhark, seem content to simply believe that perhaps there is the possibility of free will, though it is hard to miss something that they never had. The rest of the masses, the ones that have followed since the first seven, could never know it, they are simply pawns. They move forward, they fight, they obey without question."

_Wrayne is correct in his accusations, though. There are restrictions and limitations that are keeping them from performing at their full capacity._

"I know he is correct, but those limitations were mandated from Lord Dra'keth himself, and I am not going against his wishes, I very clearly see the need for such things."

_Indeed. Am I correct in assuming that we will be meeting the others now?_

"Yes. I should think someone such as yourself would not need to assume, though, what with your skill at looking into the minds of others."

_It can be tiring, Warlock. Just as you do not cast fire on a whim lest you drain your energy, I do not invade the thoughts of others for no reason._

Lycius offered a skeptical look. "Somehow, I do not believe you."

_As before, I do not see the need to prove myself to you._

"In due time, you will be required to flaunt your power. There is a battle pit, I want you to compete in the competition today. Several other warlocks are going to bring their pets and familiars. It is, of course, to the death…so to speak, though you and I both know death merely means a return to the void for creatures like you, and all we have to do is perform the summoning again."

_What makes you think I will unleash my full strength in such a battle?_

"If you fail to win, I will leave you in the void and seek another pet," Lycius said, smirking. "It would be in your best interests to win."

Xodius smirked faintly as Lycius started towards the door leading back into the main caverns. _Part of me likes how you think, Warlock._

"Oh?" Lycius paused and glanced back over his shoulder. "What does the other part of you think?"

_I think it might be more fun to let you ponder the possibilities._

Lycius did not outwardly respond, though it was easy for Xodius to tell the answer given was far from the answer sought. They made their way through the twisting tunnels until they arrived at a lavishly painted doorway. The painting itself depicted a shielded crest with the symbol of a black dragon in flight, wings spread wide as fire poured from its gaping maw. Set behind the shield was a crossed pair of broadswords, the hilts glinting with polished gold that had been set into the wood. As Xodius looked closer, he could see other metals had been used, along with gemstones, to draw out the various colors that made up the steel shield and black dragon, though they were in mild need of a cleaning and polish.

"This room belongs to the Order of the Blade. The kingdom to the south of us prides itself on the order of paladins that have policed their territories for so long; this is our answer. One of their paladins rather unwillingly gave up the secrets of his trade, and we began training our own to harness the power. Granted, Lord Dra'keth implemented a rather dark twist to the art, but what we have achieved with the Order will easily overthrow the might of the Paladin."

They stepped through the door and into a chamber that was well lit. Tomes filled a large bookcase that was carved into the rock on one side of the room, while the middle had been given over to a massive round table with seats situated around its perimeter. Names were engraved into the seats with fancy runes, the most elaborate reading 'Darknight Seiver'. The wall opposite the bookcase was filled with a wooden board that had bulletins, notes, and other important documents posted over its surface. Further back, separated by a purple curtain that was currently pulled back, was the sleeping quarters.

"We've isolated them, for the most part, from the rest of the forces so that they may study their craft without being hindered by the rest. Seiver was our first and founding member of the Order of the Blade."

_He is also one of your seven, is he not?_

"Yes, this is why I want you to meet him."

As they were speaking, a silver-scaled Drek'kan made his way in from the caverns. He was clad in armor that had been forged from a black metal, the plate itself polished to offer a shine in spite of the dark color. The chestpiece bore the same crest as the door's, while the shield strapped to his back bore a solitary dragon's eye surrounded by black. Trapped by the shield was a crimson cape that reached his ankles, constantly in motion from the disturbance caused by his tail. About his waist he wore a simple leather sword-belt, alongside the heavier plate girdle that protected him from injury in battle, which carried a sheathed broadsword. The sword's hilt was polished brass that shone like gold, a large and skillfully cut gemstone set in the pommel. When the Darknight saw Lycius, he promptly offered a slight bow before turning his attention to Xodius.

"This, my dear pet," Lycius began, "is Seiver, the leader of the Order."

Seiver's eyes shifted from Xodius, to Lycius, and back again as the brief introduction was offered. "Master Lycius, as always it is a pleasure to see you here amongst those of my Order; a fair welcome to your new familiar as well. I trust all is going in accordance to Lord Dra'keth's wishes?"

"Of course it is. Within a month, the seats at your table will be filled and training can commence in earnest. In the mean time, I can only assume you and the other three have been working diligently at perfecting your skills."

Seiver nodded slightly. "If it so please you, perhaps I could offer a demonstration?"

"That will not be necessary, Seiver. I will take you at your word for the time being, you have not yet given me a reason to do otherwise." Lycius motioned back to Xodius. "Come along, pet, there are others you need to meet before we travel up to the mountain's peak."

They stepped out into the hallways once more and carried on through the vast network of tunnels. As the door with the crest vanished around a turn, Xodius snorted softly and glanced up to Lycius. _A far stronger binding has been placed on him than the others._

"Yes. The power they wield, having been pulled from the Paladins, is far more dangerous if unleashed against our own forces than those of a rogue warlock or assassin might be. Much like the others, though, Seiver's mind is more free than the slaved Drek'kan that followed after him. They will not pose a threat in the slightest."

_Is this something you know to be fact, or is this something you simply hope to be true?_

Lycius remained silent as though the question went unheard in his mind, nodding towards a door. "This up here is where our healers dwell and work. Ours can be distinguished easily by their breed and skillset, they are Drek'kan after all, and that alone makes them unique to the other priests and healers our enemies tend to field. Also, while ours are adept healers, they also can perform the opposite effect, causing harm to others by manipulating the very same shadows warlocks tend to deal in. The two can easily partner up for a far more devastating effect."

_Clever. A priest which kills would be the last thing anyone might expect on the battlefield._

"If I didn't know any better, my pet, I would assume that remark carried a tone of sarcasm." Lycius stepped through the door. "Myriad! I seek a word with you."

Xodius stepped into the room and furrowed his brow slightly. The place was far more brightly lit than the rest. A row of litters were placed against a wall, opposite those were shelving units filled with various vials, bandages, and other such things of that nature. The smell of blood lingered from patients passed, but the infirmary was currently empty. In the back of the room was a curtain that separated the main room from another, though with the curtain drawn he could not see just what lay beyond.

The curtain shifted and the owner of the voice emerged. Xodius was, for a brief moment, stunned. Her scales were a dark metallic blue, her eyes violet in color. The disposition with which she carried herself was considerably more cheerful than the others, something that seemed oddly out of place within the darker catacombs below M'alketh. As she approached, she smiled faintly at Xodius.

"Well, hello there. I take it you're the latest pet for our Lycius here, hmm? I'm Myriad."

_Well met, Myriad. You seem a bit more light in spirits than the others I've thus far met._

"Of course I am. You almost have to be a bit more chipper than most to put up with what you come across in my trade."

Lycius cleared his throat and took a step back towards the door. "Myriad, I have some matters to attend to. As you currently have no pressing matters of business, I would like for you to show my pet around the catacombs. Cyrius and Wraith should be returning shortly and I would like for proper introductions to be made. He's already met the others."

Myriad smiled and bowed slightly. "Of course, I will see it done, Master Lycius."

"You've always been reliable in that, Myriad, I trust nothing less from you."

Xodius followed Lycius with his eyes as the warlock departed the infirmary, snorting faintly as soon as the door closed. _I should say, Myriad, that I am not terribly fond of this place and its inhabitants._

"I could tell." She made her way towards one of the litters, sitting on its edge. "I wasn't going to be the one to say it, though. By all means rest up, there's not much to do around here until Wraith and Cyrius get back. They are the two typically tasked with the more…stealthy assignments that come our way. Terribly brutal work, though less so than war itself, I suppose."

_Assassins?_

Myriad nodded. "Aye. So, since we have some time, tell me a bit about yourself. Most of these warlocks can't summon anything capable of holding intelligent conversation, and I've all kinds of questions."

_Ah, the curious type then?_ Xodius smirked faintly as he made his way to a comfortable looking corner of the room nearby, curling up in it. _Very well then, ask away._


	3. Chapter 3

Edward watched the impressive fanfare of military might that paraded through the streets below from the safety of his home. Armor was polished so the bright sunlight glinted in a multitude of directions. It was something the King of Ashland enjoyed thoroughly; letting the populace know the military was always present to offer protection. It was also something he did not enjoy participating in. For someone who was an appointed Knight such an unwillingness to participate was usually frowned upon, though he was beyond caring about such things. There were others who felt as he did, and they were undoubtedly watching the scene from a safe distance.

He was rather average compared to most of the knights he worked with, blessed with a sandy blonde hair that was kept short. As he watched his fellow knights parade by with their pikes, the sun caught a polished helm and the resulting glinting flash of light caught his brown eyes, forcing him to look away. With a sigh, he stood to his full five foot six height, a hand resting on the sword sheathed at his side. The rulers of the neighboring kingdoms were gathering for an emergency summit concerning the apparent growth of forces in the northlands. Ashland's King Teyrel viewed M'alketh, which was the kingdom immediately to the north, as a threat that needed to be dealt with immediately, no too many felt the same. The kingdoms immediately to the west and south could not see any visible growth of the Dragonlord's armies, nor had there been any outwardly hostile acts since the former king of M'alketh had fallen ill and died. There was only speculation, which unfortunately did not offer enough to start a war.

The talk about town, however, was not so much the fact that so many members of power were going to be gathered in one place, it was the talk regarding the invitation that had been sent up to M'alketh itself, calling for the Dragonlord's representative to make an appearance. The actual invitation itself was simply a formality; no one truly wished either to show for the summit. As it was, with the parade drawing to an end, the actual summit would begin, and amongst the few absent were the elves from the west, and the dwarves who dwelled in the mountain regions far to the south. No one would miss either, the elves were terribly pretentious, and the dwarves typically only cared about treasure and profit.

"Alexander, bring me my formal attire. King Teyrel wished for me to sit in on the summit as his advisor should my services be needed."

The young lad who answered was a younger version of himself, and rightfully so. The two were brothers, and the physical heritage was passed down in everything but the eyes, Alexander's being hazel. On his arm was draped a fanciful green tunic and tabard that bore the King's crest, a griffon posed regally with a crown set atop its head. The garb was donned easily enough and Edward started for the doorway.

"Brother, see to the house while I am away. I expect dinner to be prepared, see to our father as well. He needs to drink his tea, for his health."

Alexander nodded dutifully as he made his way towards the back of the house. Edward watched him for a moment before closing the door and starting down the road. Ashland was a simple Kingdom, one which was small compared to M'alketh, even with the allegedly scaled down armies the Dragonlord claimed to posses. The founding kings had been somewhat foolish in the main city's layout, as well. The streets were laid out in a uniform grid, with the four main boulevards that ran in the cardinal directions leading straight towards the four gates of the keep nestled in the center of the city. If an invasion were to occur, it could not be any easier to march in on the key city locations. He had, on numerous occasions, argued for construction to remedy the issue, though all of his concerns fell upon deaf ears.

The hall that had been selected for the summit was a theater, a relic of bygone ages when performances had been a popular show of status within society. The stage had been dressed up with banners and standards for the various kings attending, and a large round table had been placed center-stage for those invited to sit as equals. When Edward arrived, the sentries posted by the entrance saluted and allowed him to pass by unchallenged –they all knew him on sight- and he returned the gesture in kind as a formality. Making his way through the narrow hallways that led to the stage itself was a quick ordeal, there had not been much thought given to security inside the theater itself. The thought of such light measures caused him some concern, though much like the city's layout, the fears were undoubtedly his alone. Several parties had already arrived and many of them were clustered together in small groups holding hushed conversations with one another, plotting alliances for certain issues that were to be voted on no doubt. He shuffled his way towards the seat that had been set aside for him and stood dutifully behind it, hands clasped behind his back as he watched the others present.

"Sir Edward, I am pleased to see you are attending."

Edward turned and found himself looking at a man shorter, and far older, than himself. Gray hair encircled a balding head, though a majority was still concealed by the jewel-encrusted crown set atop the man's head. Soft blue eyes matched the smile the King of Ashland carried.

"My king, I am honored to have been asked to sit at your side for this summit." Edward pulled the chair out so the King could sit. "Perhaps the others will see the true threat to the north and move to act accordingly."

"Perhaps. I do not mirror your concern fully, Sir Edward, though I can see that certain aspects of the shift in power do warrant attention."

Edward frowned slightly but nodded a silent agreement as he watched the others start to settle into their assigned seats. The proceedings that began were terribly mundane, not that he ever paid much attention to them. Introductions were delivered with a terrible amount of attention given to long titles that bore little significance whatsoever. Something about the theater was terribly disturbing, almost like a haunting sense of being watched constantly lingered, though he could easily attribute that to the shadows that hung over the surrounding bleachers.

"That brings us to the main issue at hand, M'alketh."

Edward brought his gaze down from the bleachers to the table. The king of Northshore, a stout, balding man who undoubtedly enjoyed far too much drink, was giving the others a stern look as he spoke.

"M'alketh has been developing an army that could destroy ours with relative ease if not addressed. I had hoped they would send an ambassador to this summit, however their lack of attendance does not change the fact that limitations once in place need to be enforced."

The first to respond was one of the younger Kings, barely a few years on the throne and, by his young, boyish looks was easily the youngest at the table. "Without a clear act of aggression, we cannot move in and impose our will on them. I've yet to see anything that would lead me to believe they are going to move against us."

"Then, Sire, you are blind." Edward took a moment to look around the table. "I mean no disrespect to any seated here, but the threat to the north is very clear. Without spies you can even see the death spreading across the lands. The fires of the forges deep within the mountain are burning day and night, smoke is blotting the sun and starving the fields that were once fertile."

"Your Knight speaks out of turn, King-"

"My Knight speaks for me, you will not be so quick to chastise him when he speaks. However, the point is valid that they have yet to perform any open acts of aggression."

Edward sighed softly as he let his eyes roam around the empty benches surrounding the stage. He never could seem to understand the motivations that governed some of the decisions made around the table, nor could he ever feel like he belonged amongst them. A hand traveled down to rest reassuringly on the sword at his side as he once again let the voices around him fade. Something else was drawing his focus, a whisper in the back of his mind telling him that something within the shadows did not quite belong.

Leaning over he whispered his departure to the King at his side and stepped away from the table. The wooden floors of the theater creaked under his feet as he moved through the backstage passageways, finally emerging from the back door that led to the benches and standing areas for the audience. Another doorway near the back led to the stairwell which accessed the more luxurious booths reserved for members of higher castes in society than himself. When the theater was not hosting plays or performances, he had often made his way to the booths to relax and get away from the hustle of work, though it was the solitude that drew him rather than the cushioned seats.

The first few booths were empty, though he lingered in one to listen in on the conversation happening on the stage below. The conversation was still lingering on M'alketh, one of the foreign kings from the grasslands boasting his cavalry could stand against anything the dragonlord could send against it. He chuckled at the thought of cavalry trying to topple the dragon.

_A massacre._

The image that flashed through his mind caused him to pause. The vivid details that lingered were not his, he had seen a few instances of violence, but never a real battlefield. The picture in his mind was far too real to be simply imagined.

_The men of the grasslands will be like lambs to the slaughter if they act with the foolhardiness shown by their king. You know this. I know this._

The voice in his mind caused him to shiver. He had known a few people who were indeed insane, ranting about different voices that lived within their minds, but even this was different. Something was overpowering the voice of his own conscience, he could feel it.

_Remove your hand from your sword. It is both unnecessary and unwise, Knight. Turn around and face me._

Edward slowly turned, his blood chilling as a cold shiver ran down his spine. The creature seated before him was like something out of a nightmare, all that was missing was the blood dripping from its talons and maw. Seated like a stone gargoyle, its tail slowly snaking back and forth on the ground behind it, the thing seemed to be grinning coldly at him.

"What do you want, demon?"

_Ah, how nice to be called something more true than 'pet', Knight Edward. I am not here to kill you, though I doubt I will be able to convince you to drive that thought from your mind. My name is Xodius._

"That does not answer my question." Edward glanced back over his shoulder at the conference. "I'm not going to let you kill him."

_That is not within your control, nor mine for that matter. I will not be the one to kill him. You are a Knight, Edward, one of the few who knows how a true Knight should behave. I need you to survive._

"Survive?" The knight furrowed his brow as his heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

_Listen carefully, Knight. Do you not hear death on the wind? Can you not smell the blood and hellfire in the air? Your fears were correct and well-founded. The dragonlord's armies can march in with ease on the center of this city, though they will not do so yet. First, Dra'keth wishes to speak at the summit._

"You are warning me. Why?"

_I need someone to survive. You cannot begin to comprehend, human, I do not expect you to. I merely ask you listen and heed the warning. Flee this place, take those who you trust in a battle with, you will understand what needs to be done once everything is set in motion._

"You ask me to abandon my duty guarding my King," Edward said, glancing back at the stage below. "I cannot do that."

_Then, you will die here, Knight. There are very few whom I have sensed to understand their duties like you, and fewer still capable of rallying forces for the war to come. Look at the table, what do you see? The very leadership that represents all of humankind, your future, and they are all marked for death. My master will be here soon, and once he arrives, the assistance I offer will no longer be available. Take it now or die, and know that the armies of the Dragonlord will destroy your city, your people, your race._

Edward sighed. "If I were to depart here, abandon my King to the inevitable death you claim is coming, what would you have me do?"

_Flee here, to the south, find those who will follow you and begin to build an army. Hold off the advancing forces. You will know, in due time, what to do from there._

"Why are you helping me, demon?"

_Perhaps I am selfish, or setting a trap, or perhaps one of my enemies is also one of yours. Any number of reasons may very well apply, but I will not discuss those with you here or now._

A silence lingered as Edward glared down at the creature, though there was never any change in the beast's expression that he could use to tell if it was all true or one simple bluff. What he did come to realize, after a few moments, was that the silence was not only prominent in the booth, but on the stage as well. He turned and glanced down at the gathering of kings and felt a faint tremor of fear.

Standing in the wings, holding the attention of those seated at the table with his wry smirk was a pale figure clad in crimson robes. The Grandmaster Warlock of M'alketh, Lycius, had arrived at the summit, and his entrance was as much a cause for surprise as it was fear by the Kings.

_I must now take my leave, Knight. You are on your own, chose your path wisely._

Edward glanced back over his shoulder to find himself the sole occupant of the booth. Returning his attention to the stage, he watched as the warlock moved from the wings and onto the stage itself, moving slowly as he began to speak.

"I felt it best that M'alketh be represented properly for this summit, as we are the primary reason this gathering was called." Lycius glanced around the table and sneered. "I am not, however, going to be the one speaking on behalf of my Master. Dra'keth, you see, felt it best he speak for himself."

There was a murmur of voices in the theater. Edward knew why they were uneasy; he felt the faint sense of doubt in the back of his mind. None had ever seen the Dragonlord, or rather none who had lived to tell. Everything had always been delegated down to Lycius. For the last few years, Edward had even begun to believe that Lycius was running the show and Dra'keth was the icon he used to hold power through fear.

"Very well then, Warlock," Edward tried to see who was speaking, the tabard indicated one of the lesser Kingdoms to the south, "if your Dragonlord is here, then you do not have a seat at this table."

"King Argyle of the Southmen, you do not know when you are speaking out of turn. I am a direct representative of the Dragonlord and you will keep a civil tongue when addressing me."

Argyle slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing in the theater. It was the last action he performed before the bolt of shadowy energy exploded against his skull. The chair he was sitting in flew back off the edge of the stage, his robes fluttering after as the corpse fell into the orchestra pit. The stage became a flurry of action as blades were drawn and chairs kicked back. Silence fell over the theater as the joint kings glared at the warlock. Edward could hear the sounds of a heartbeat, the slow rhythmic thump almost mimicking the sound of a banner flapping in the wind. As the silence progressed, the noise seemed to grow louder, and it was at that moment the Knight realized what he was hearing was not the beating of someone's heart, but rather that of leathery wings battering the air.

The roof above the theater splintered as a wave of heat caused everyone gathered on the stage save the warlock to cower down and cover their faces. Edward turned his gaze upward and he felt his blood chill in his veins. Wings giving a final beat, his snakelike body settling on the framework exposed by the shattered roof, was the single most frightening creature Edward had ever settled his eyes on. From nose to tail, the Dragonlord was a solid fifty feet in length, the ebon scales that coated his body lacking the typical sheen most dragons had, these instead matte. Wickedly curved teeth filled the cold smirk that was presented to the slowly recovering royalty below, sharp, hawk-like eyes glowing such a bright crimson they seemed to be on fire.

"Ah, noble kings and knights, I had been hoping to see you all gathered here," the deep voice hissed. Eyes turned to the corpse lying off-stage. "Ah, I see one has already heard the declaration I intended on making. Gentlemen, your kingdoms will soon know that war has been waged against those impeding my further movement to the south. As all of the kingdoms outside of mine can be found to the south, all kingdoms outside of mine are included in this declaration of hostilities. Unfortunately, you will not live to see its outcome. Consider what my warlock performed, and what I am about to perform, as the official declaration of war. Farewell, gentlemen."

Edward swallowed hard as he watched the beast slink along the destroyed wall, faint tendrils of black smoke wafting from flared nostrils. The smoke continued to grow as the dragon's attention was briefly drawn to a departing Lycius, the strange creature following close on his heels.

_Run while the opportunity still affords itself._

Edward blinked as he looked back at the dragon. His bulk was swelling as breath was drawn in, faint tongues of flame flickered from his spread maw.

_Run._

The fire continued to grow, rolling into a fireball as Dra'keth exhaled sharply. A torrent of flame hammered down on the gathered kings, incinerating their bodies instantly as the wooden stage exploded. Splinters and flesh showered about the room, a few of the fragments striking Edward in the face.

"Run…" He paused. The voice that had been prompting him within his mind was gone, his own instincts starting to take over. Before he could fully realize what was happening, the theater was slowly vanishing behind him as he ran through the streets towards the keep.

Panic was starting to spread as Lycius and Dra'keth rained destruction on the buildings near the theater, the dragon bellowing out a roar of triumph at the fall of the alliance leaders. People were screaming and gathering up armfuls of their belongings as word made its way throughout the city. As he drew closer to the keep, his fellow knights were already starting to bar the gates and garrison the parapets for defense.

Alexander was waiting for him inside the courtyard and the two ran their way up to Edward's dressing room. As his younger brother assisted in donning armor, Edward kept a wary eye on the scene outside the room's window. Dra'keth was still perched atop the smoldering ruins of the theater, watching as people scurried through the streets.

"What happened?"

Edward glanced back at Alexander as the straps were tightened on his breastplate. "The Dragonlord from M'alketh has killed the entire summit. Lycius is here as well, as is his pet. I imagine his armies are not far behind."

Alexander was silent as he finished strapping on the rest of the polished armor pieces. Once done, he handed Edward his sword and sighed. "How far do you think they will push?"

"M'alketh?" Edward quirked his brow slightly at the question before walking over to the window to glance at the city below. Dra'keth had moved on from the theater, circling overhead and scorching buildings at random. "Assuming his troops are in motion, they may hold steady here before moving further south. The alliance is broken and unprepared, they could sweep as far south as the gap near the Mirkilain range. From there, they could easily establish lines."

Alexander sighed at the thought. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Yes, find Sir Eglamore. I want you to have him organize a fighting force, evacuate the city, and move south. I am going to ride ahead and warn the other armies. With any luck on our end, we can organize enough of a force that they will be stopped in their advance." He started for the door, stopping to look back over his shoulder. "Al, be careful. If M'alketh is smart, they'll realize they need to move supply lines with the advance. That would slow them enough to afford you some time."

"Of course, I will see to it immediately." Alexander fastened his own sword belt about his waist before starting for the door. "Do be careful, brother. I expect to see you when our evacuation here is complete."

Edward let out a slow, calming breath as he looked out the window again. "I expect the same from you, brother. Tell Eglamore to have our Knights abandon the city once everyone is evacuated, push for the gap and I'll meet you there with the forces I've managed to gather. Hopefully, the news of the death of their kings is enough to push them into action, rather than squabbles for power."

Alexander gave a curt nod before stepping out of the room to carry out the orders passed down to him. Edward could only sigh as he cast another parting look out the window before moving to his footlocker. Kneeling, he opened the hasp and sorted through the various items tucked away, digging beneath the tabards worn when he once apprenticed his knighthood. Beneath that rested a simple medallion of brass, long tarnished from ages of being passed down. Depicted on its face was an eagle, wings spread. On the back was etched 'Eagle Watch: Sir Corbin Algemonte.'.

"We'll see if the old alliances hold as they once did."

He pocketed the medallion and started down the stairs, moving through the keep towards the rear cloisters where the stables were located. His horse was housed in one of the first few stalls. The stable hands were already outfitting the black stallion with its wartime equipment, a few pieces of armor to keep it protected during cavalry charges into infantry lines. They assisted him in mounting up and he offered a parting wave before spurring his warhorse onward.

At a full gallop, Sir Edward Algemonte departed Ashland, heading to the south, as the beat of war drums became audible to the north. Dra'keth continued to circle overhead, a watchful eye cast down as the standards of his army were paraded through the streets. Lycius stood atop a flat-roofed building, his hands clasped at the wrists behind his back, one in the other, as he kept his eye cast on the Keep. The flourish of activity within was hardly unnoticed, though the forces gathered hardly appeared significant enough to draw concern. At his side, hunched and as motionless as a stone gargoyle, Xodius kept his eyes narrowed as he watched the solitary rider on horseback vanishing in the distance. Lycius might not have noticed, but a faint smirk spread slowly across the draconic muzzle. War had begun at long last, and the demon could not be more pleased.

"My pet," Lycius looked down at the creature at his side, "I need you to head back to M'alketh. Find our assassins, Wraith and Cyrius, and dispatch them both. The knights are going to garrison the Keep and hold off our forces while the local populace escapes to the south, they are perfectly suited to get inside the walls and wreak havoc as they know best."

_Of course, Master._ Xodius stood, his tattered wings spreading. With a silent flutter, he was soon airborne and flying overhead the Dragonlord's army to the smoke-covered lands to the north.

Lycius watched his pet depart, shuddering slightly. He had assumed the creature was incapable of flight until now, the wings were terribly tattered. The demon he had summoned continued to both concern and amaze him. The power it exhibited and promised was incredible, yet in spite of the veil of servitude it displayed, there was a lingering doubt as to how much control he truly had over Xodius.

"Grandmaster warlock!"

Lycius shifted his glance skyward towards the dragon overhead. "Yes, M'lord?"

"Destroy them all. Take no prisoners and show no mercy. Ashland will serve as an example for all that those who stand in our way will perish."

"Of course, M'lord." Lycius smirked to himself and glanced back as the army drew nearer the city. "It is time to see how our creatures perform."

"Indeed. I am looking forward to a display of strength. I hope your lieutenants do not disappoint me."

"As do I, M'lord, as do I."


	4. Chapter 4

Dhark was enjoying an aspect of M'alketh which was almost as rare as his own profession within the ranks. With the armies marching on Ashland to the south, and Dra'keth having little need for someone gifted in the shamanistic arts, he found himself being one of a handful still remaining in the catacombs beneath the mountain fortress. Wraith and Cyrius, along with a few other assassins, were also still in their dark corner of the fortress, though true to their trade they remained silent and out of view.

The main halls above the catacombs were still a hustle and bustle of activity, Dra'keth wished to test out the strength of his new Drek'kan forces. Not that Dhark minded, though, the catacombs above were hardly of any true interest to him anyway, the humans were clumsy and loud, something that interrupted his usual meditations and studies.

His current studies were focused on the older tomes remnant of M'alketh's former occupants. Some had been interested in, and dabbled in, the shamanistic arts, though in spite of the achievements made in the other, classical skills of magic that often benefitted mages. Still, he could only see that as a blessing in disguise, it allowed him to develop his own skills with the various totemic staves he carved and imbued. The only irritation he managed to find himself entertaining was that the military might that comprised M'alketh's true power was far from interested in what was viewed as a skill more common to pacifist elves than warrior nations.

"Brother Dhark, are you in here? Why, oh why, must you entertain the notion of such brightly lit chambers?"

Dhark glanced up from the tome he was thumbing through and smiled at the ebon head that poked in. It was one of two Drek'kan that carried the title of lieutenant and wore the title of assassin. The footfalls were almost eerily silent as he moved smoothly across the room, siding up alongside the studying shaman.

"Lord Dra'keth has sent a summons. Myself and Brother Cyrius are to depart for the south. It seems there is a force of knights garrisoned within the Keep at Ashland and they want us to kill them all."

Dhark chuckled softly. "Is that so, Wraith?" He closed the tome and shook his head. "I do wish you and Cyrius the best. I hope you both return safely."

"Just the two of us? What of those working with us?"

"They are mindless slaves to Dra'keth's will. I would not trust them to watch my back any more than I care to watch theirs." Dhark frowned and shook his head. "Do not rely on them for anything, Brother."

Wraith sighed softly. "Yes, you do speak the truth. Their skills are efficient, though I wouldn't doubt they do not carry the best interests of any save Dra'keth. I assure you, though, we will both return if none of the others do. Cyrius and myself will be more than capable of keeping an eye out for one another."

"What about Flyre and the rest?"

Wraith chuckled softly and nodded. "I assure you, if the enemy were even capable of mustering a force that I felt would be capable of standing against our brothers and sisters, the combined force they are capable of would be enough of a match. You've seen how Flyre and Wrayne work together; alone they could destroy half of Ashland. I can only imagine what all of us in the same location could achieve. We are a force to be reckoned with, and rest assured we could lay waste to quite a few masses before falling."

Dhark laughed softly. "Indeed, indeed. However, not all of us will be there. Lycius seems to have convinced Lord Dra'keth I am next to useless."

"It's a land of necromancy, warlocks, and assassins, Dhark," Wraith said softly, tapping the doorframe. "Out there, what they do not understand nor comprehend is swept to the corners. In time, you will have your chance to prove yourself on the battlefield. For now, though, I have to be going. I'll be more than certain to share a few stories when I return."

"I look forward to them, Brother. Farewell until then."

Dhark watched Wraith slip back out of the room as silently as he had entered, a finger tapping at the tome in his hands thoughtfully. With a soft chuckle and shrug, he returned to the page he had been studying. The silence of the hall settled over him once more as he read through the basic concepts of earth elementals. He had hardly made his way through half of the page before he felt eyes upon him. He closed the tome yet again and furrowed his brow.

"I know you are here, there is no sense in hiding."

_Of course not, Shaman Dhark. I wish to have a few words with you._

"Ah, Xodius, I wondered when you would be returning." He glanced up towards the ceiling and watched as the creature crawled towards the nearest wall. "Quite the entrance, I'm surprised I did not notice you come in."

_I did not allow you to. At the time, you were not alone, and what I wanted to speak in regards to is for your ears only._

Dhark frowned and set the tome aside, arms crossed. "Is that so?"

_Yes, that is so. You creatures are remarkable, your minds are wonderfully organized, yet they are capable of keeping secrets even from my own prying eyes, so to speak. Can you assure me that none will be able to look into your mind and discover what it is I say here today?_

The silence fell over the room again as Dhark regarded the creature in front of him. "This is either a trap devised by Lycius, or you are up to something, Xodius. You have my word none shall discover what transpires here today."

Xodius smirked and moved towards a comfortable corner of the room, curling up and relaxing. _Given time to study the nature of the ties that bind you to Dra'keth, I may be able to break them Lycius had no idea what he summoned forth when he called me to this plane. I may be able to do the same for the others in your group, though any which came after your 'brothers' were summoned forth might be more troublesome to free. They do not share the same mental structure as you._

Dhark quirked his brow slightly and moved towards the door, sliding the latch to lock it. "Those are dangerous thoughts to entertain, friend Xodius. Do you honestly think you could manage something of that sort, though?"

_It is no different than the bond Lycius has rather foolishly attempted to force upon me. He succeeded, but the restrictions that normally would keep me from communicating as freely as I am now failed. In short, I'm simply unable to act directly against him in a violent manner. What I have seen from Dra'keth's hold on you is that it is very similar. You cannot act against him in a manner that would place him at risk of destruction. The others that came after you are less fortunate, the control placed on them is absolute._

"I see. Why are you approaching me, though, and not the others?"

_They are fighting a war, you are not. I also believe you may be more receptive than others in regards to an attempt at what I am proposing._

"Are you not worried that Dra'keth could discover this attempt to betray his will?"

There was a faint glint of metal as Xodius smirked. _I know that the seven of you have managed to partition off a piece of your mind. I believe Dra'keth cannot see into the thoughts you entertain within there, just as I cannot. Everything we are discussing here and now is being placed within that area of your mind where he cannot see._

"You're far more astute than I initially believed, Xodius. Does Lycius know anything about this?"

_No. This brings me to something else, however. I see this as granting you what you perceive to be freedom. No longer bound to the will of another, you can simply leave; find others who share the skills you do, learn from them, bond with them. In exchange for your freedom, I simply ask for my freedom. Lycius must die._

Silence fell over the chambers as Dhark furrowed his brow, giving the creature seated in the corner a wary gaze. His mind was a torrent of conflicting thoughts, playing out how the various consequences of either a simple 'yes' or 'no' would end.

"I cannot kill him alone," Dhark finally said. "I will need my brothers at my side. Lycius is, for an ego-driven fool, very skilled."

_I will do what I can. I will need your assistance in that endeavor, of course. You stand a better chance at reaching them than I, though I will certainly do what I can to help. If having your brothers along is the only term you request, then consider it done._ Xodius stretched his wings and back before resettling back on the ground. _I do have one other question. Your brothers and sisters, will they be receptive of the offer?_

Dhark nodded without hesitation. "Yes. Where one of us goes, the rest will follow. Unlike the other mindless slaves, we know the value of camaraderie. We have trained and fought together long enough to know our own loyalties lie closer with one another than with Dra'keth's hordes."

Xodius nodded curtly before letting out a slow, relaxed breath. It was the first sound Dhark had heard from the creature during the entire conversation. He let silence fall over the chambers again as he moved to where his bookcase was resting in the corner. Sliding the tome into its spot on the shelves, he reached for a chair and moved it closer to where Xodius was resting.

"So, how does this procedure work?"

Xodius smiled faintly and closed his eyes. _Just relax. Close your eyes if you think that may help. I've found that the best thing to do is sleep. When sleeping, the mind is wonderfully relaxed and open._

"I doubt I am going to sleep." Dhark let out a slow breath as he closed his eyes. "I assure you, however, that I've had more than enough time to at least become proficient in simple relaxation."

Xodius chuckled softly as he let the connection between Dhark's mind and his own open fully. The chamber around him faded into nothingness as his reality became comprised fully of the Drek'kan's own memories and thoughts. Visions of the training, of his brothers and sisters, of the shamanistic trade he was schooled in, everything became a blur of images and cognitive thought.

True to the Drek'kan's nature, once the initial flood of mental pictures subsided, the structure began to take hold. Memories and thoughts became sorted and organized by their nature and relevance. The importance they held to Dhark was the single most significant factor that played a part in where the thoughts were placed. For Xodius, it was almost like walking down a mental street, with the memories themselves playing out on either side, partitioned from one another by absent areas with little more than basic thoughts and information stored between them.

Further through the mind's path, he saw an area that appeared to be a void of nothingness. The partition that separated the area from the rest of the mind was incredibly thick, though Xodius left it alone. What had been stored within was not what he sought. He crawled his way further through Dhark's mind and finally found the bond. Here, the Drek'kan's mind was broken, his thoughts a jumbled mess that intermingled with the intruding string of commands and inputs from another mind. The bridge they stemmed from was broken, there was no sign that they belonged to anyone specific, however the anchor they placed on several of Dhark's emotions and abilities was painfully obvious. Thick, black tendrils were flowing from within the intruding block, like a parasite, spreading to other areas of the mind to carry out their intended suppressive roles.

Xodius glanced at them briefly before letting his focus return to the main source of the problem. Concentrating, his mind started to construct its own counter, a bubble that expanded and began to surround the block. Slowly, it began to compress inward, closing in and severing the intrusion from its probing tendrils. Once separated, he allowed his consciousness to probe along the tendrils, mental claws ripping and tearing at the anchors. As he did, the change started to take hold within the mind, thoughts flooding in and restructuring themselves to something more similar to the rest of the Drek'kan's mind. It was as though Dhark's consciousness was allowed a breath of fresh air, his consciousness stretching its mental legs. Slowly, the external control that had been subduing the creature's mind began to slip. As the last tendril was unanchored, he allowed the bubble to collapse inward, crushing the mental block within it. A brief moment was spent creating a new cognitive thought within Dhark's mind, a mock replica of the original block that was fully benign, yet similar enough that any other prying minds would not be any the wiser. Then, with a simple thought, the bubble collapsed fully on itself, any traces of the Dragonlord's original intrusion erased.

_Wake up._

Dhark snapped his eyes open, his breath momentarily catching in his chest. Raising his hand up, he rubbed the side of his head to will away the headache that settled in. Through the numbing pain, there was a faint sense of lightheadedness that made him feel an odd, elated sense of giddiness.

"I wish I knew how best to describe this."

_Freedom. Your mind has never known what it feels like; it will take some getting used to before you fully comprehend what you are capable of._

"I suppose I should say thanks."

_There is no need, Dhark. I took the liberty of creating a false replica of the original block. Should anyone try to pry into your mind, they will see nothing has changed, so long as you are discreet with your own free thoughts._

"So, no need to thank you, right?" Dhark felt the headache begin to subside and let out a slow breath. "How long do you think this will last before it is noticed?"

_From what I have seen, friend Dhark, the Dragonlord long lost interest in what your mind thinks. What was left behind was a severed block that fulfilled what the original bond intended. Do what you can to bring your brothers and sisters to me; I should not have to tell you that honesty is the best approach. I will also do what I can on my end, I can be fairly convincing in my own subtle way if needed. Lycius will be our most immediate, and important, threat. He is terribly keen on prying into the affairs of others._

"I will not forget my end of the bargain, Xodius. I am a beast of my word, and I will not hesitate to prove that fact."

_Good._ Xodius stood and stretched his wings. _I must return to Lycius now, otherwise he will question my prolonged absence. While Wraith and Cyrius are on their assigned mission, I will offer subtle hints for them to visit you alone. The others are, for the time being, being watched far too closely to be approached without either Lycius or Dra'keth noticing._

"I would be inclined to agree, for now. Cyrius and Wraith…it would be good to see them." Dhark smiled. "I understand, Xodius, it may be difficult, but I would like all of my brothers and sisters freed before Lycius falls. I don't think I would be able to depart here without all of us. I think I can also claim to have spoken on behalf of all of us."

_A sentiment I can understand. I will do what I can, so long as Lycius falls the effort is worthwhile._

"Might I ask a question, something which in my mind needs clarification?" Dhark sat forward, giving Xodius an interested look. "As a familiar, I thought that when the summoner died then you were banished back to the realm you came from. How is our killing Lycius going to contribute to your freedom?"

Xodius laughed, a hissing sound that echoed softly off the chamber walls. _Familiar? I am no such thing, Shaman Dhark. Warlocks well trained in their art can summon forth familiars almost effortlessly. Where the true display of skill lies, however, is in their ability to call forth demons and chain them to the will of the summoner. So long as the warlock lives, the shackles exist and can be renewed should they weaken. If the demon turns on the warlock, they are banished back to their plane of suffering until the warlock, should he or she decide, calls them back. If the warlock is slain by external forces, the chains are broken and the demon released in the plane it was summoned to._

"So, you are a demon then, Xodius?" Dhark quirked his brow, perplexed. "I would have never assumed such."

_I once told Lycius that he would never truly understand what it was he called forth. I am no demon, in that regard. Demons tend to be ignorant, slaves to their core instincts. They exist for specific reasons, some deceive, some destroy, and others simply exist to fill physical space._

"You are not a demon, yet you were called and shackled as one. I cannot help but think that you are telling me a half-truth."

_I have not fully answered the question on your mind; however there are certain things I cannot say. M'alketh is a formidable force in the lands, but my ambitions do not mirror those of the leadership within this fortress._

Dhark did not hide the disappointment that flashed across his features. Pushing himself to his feet, he stepped over to the bookshelf and slid his tome from the shelf. Tapping the cover thoughtfully, he regarded the creature in the corner. "Not a demon, not a familiar, yet ripped from another plane." He nodded and sighed. "I should return to my studies."

_As I to Lycius. Expect Wraith and Cyrius to seek you out upon their return._

Xodius offered what could have easily passed for a bow, wings spreading with the gesture. Without another word or thought passed between the two of them, he slipped out of the chambers as silently as he entered. The halls that made up the catacombs were deserted, the only life stirring belonging to Dhark and the humans in the upper levels of the fortress. Probing through the minds of those who dwelled within M'alketh had afforded a wide array of hidden passages that networked through the entire fortress. A few crawls done through a couple of the passageways even afforded access to some of the lesser known recesses of the catacombs, some with access to the plains outside the mountain. He had resolved to explore deeper through some to see if they led anywhere interesting. Just one of the few things he had available to occupy time.

Moving deeper through the catacombs, he snaked his way into a crack in the wall that was, even for his own lithe frame, a tight fit. The crawlspace carried on for a few hundred meters before the crack opened up into a wide cavern. Phosphorous light a pale green in color radiated from some strange stone crystals embedded in the rocky wall. The ceiling rippled like the surface of a pond, causing the light to splash and dance around the chamber. It was a mirage, something left behind from some ancient magic that once dwelled within the mountain. Several times, Xodius could feel thoughts lingering, though they were far too faint to trace or focus into clarity.

Spreading his wings, he lifted off the ground noiselessly and through the rippling surface above him. There was a splash as the watery surface broke and he emerged on the other side, floating above an old stone well set in a chamber similar to the one below. Landing back on the rocky floor, he moved down through an old, dust covered hallway. Portraits long faded hung in various states of decay on the wall, various crests hanging between them. A few still carried their original images, though Xodius could not see anything worthwhile in studying them and, for the most part, ignored them in passing.

The hallway led to a spiraling stairwell that carried up to floors. Signs marking what could be found on the landings were cracked and decayed, the language lost to time. Halfway up the stairwell, he stepped through a decayed wooden doorway and into a massive hall. Pillars supported a ceiling that could not be seen without light while the floors stretched on for what seemed like forever. The walls could not be seen and, even though he had travelled a few hundred meters in either direction more than once, he had never seen the actual walls that closed in the hall. Claws echoed into nothingness as he moved in the one direction he knew to have an end, arriving at a massive arched doorway, the wood dry rotted but still standing. Nudging the door open, he cringed at the creaks it issued, but carried on regardless. The hallway that the chamber emptied into was small, with a few old, faceless crests long since faded.

The hallway was a short affair, emptying into a cloister that was, at one point in time, a massive hanging garden. Vines and weeds had long since overrun the ferns and lush plants that had once grown there. A fountain sat in the center of the cloister, the water green and stagnant from standing still for untold decades. He paused for a moment, glancing back at where he had come. The ruins of the fortress were so overrun by vines spawned in the cloister that little save a few curious angles even hinted to the casual observer that a structure once stood. The mountain of M'alketh could be seen in the distance, and the sound of the river that flowed towards the mountain could be heard nearby. Xodius had coined this particular discovery as the 'Sister Fortress', a once massive keep built into a cliff face that connected with its parent fortress of M'alketh by a network of catacombs. It was hard, though, for him to tell just how long ago the two coexisted.

He spread his wings and was soon airborne, giving the cloister below a parting glance before turning south and gliding away from the Dragonlord's kingdom. Already, he could see black smoke rising on the horizon from Dra'keth's pillaging of Ashland. He was almost certain the Drek'kan hordes would be enjoying their share of destruction as well. Somewhere below, moving with a remarkable swiftness, he could hear the minds of Cyrius and Wraith as they made their way towards the doomed human kingdom where they would wreak havoc on the knights garrisoned within the city's keep.

Letting out a soft, hissing sigh, he allowed his eyes to close while gaining altitude. He could feel the moisture from low-flying clouds against his scales, the crisp air offering a faint sting to his lungs with each breath. It was just one of many sensations he had never known within the void. Flight was merely willing one's self to hover from one point to another within nothingness. There was neither wind nor air, merely empty space. In the back of his mind, he heard a voice remind him of how much he loathed Lycius' constant threats to send him back, vowing the warlock would die.

The smell of smoke stung his nostrils and he snapped both eyes open. A loud cacophony of thoughts and voices filled the air over Ashland as he banked sharply, folding both wings back and falling into a dive. Dra'keth was circling above the keep a few blocks away, holding steady well clear of the reach of arrows and spears. Black waves of Drek'kan raided shops and homes. He could tell that several of the city's in habitants were amassed and moving to the south, fleeing the onslaught, though the hordes managed to find stragglers every so often. None were spared..

Lycius was standing atop a building that provided a commanding view of Ashland's keep; Wrayne was standing beside him and conversing in hushed tones. As he landed beside the two warlocks, Wrayne offered a light bow and departed, hopping down to the building's interior through a hole in the roof. Lycius remained silent until Wrayne departed the building and appeared on the street below.

"That was surprisingly fast, my pet."

_I saw little need to delay my return._ Xodius paused to smell the air, a part of him nestled in the back of his mind enjoying the smell of sulfuric smoke on the wind. _Cyrius and Wraith are on their way by foot, unless you have any capable of opening portals or summoning them to the front lines they will be a few days in coming._

Lycius nodded faintly. "Of course, though if I have any say in the matter they will be here sooner. There is something I have been meaning to ask you."

_Certainly, by all means ask. I shall do what I can to provide a satisfactory answer._

"I'm sure you will." Lycius frowned as he gave his pet a cold look. "When I first summoned you forth, I asked how involved you can get with someone's mind. I know you can pry thoughts and memories from them, can you control the actions of another?"

_I can whisper thoughts that may, or may not, influence the choices someone makes. I cannot, however, dominate the mind of another as a puppeteer might his marionette._

"What assurance do I have that you are not lying to me and I am unawares due to your skill?"

Xodius chuckled softly and offered a toothy grin. _You have none, however I can easily point out the simple fact you are still alive. If I could dominate and control minds, I would be free by now._

Lycius pondered over the answer given, the suspicion in his eyes showing he was less than convinced. Still, he shrugged and let the subject change with a deft wave of the hand. "You are a creature of subtlety and stealth, Xodius. I want you to accompany Wraith and Cyrius in their task of destroying everyone within the keep. You shall be there on my authority. Wraith and Cyrius will answer to you, you shall answer to me. I expect to know when the keep is full of naught but bodies before the last corpse falls to the ground."

The creature at the warlock's side offered a curious look but nodded. _Of course, I will do my best to see the job completed in the most expeditious manner possible._

"Until the other two arrive here, you are free to do as you wish with the other residents of Ashland. I have no further need of you at this time." Lycius turned and started for the hole in the roof to climb down. "Do not get yourself killed, pet."

Xodius smirked and watched the human depart in silence, his gaze returning to the plumes of black smoke rising in sinister columns throughout Ashland. With the sound of war drums filling the air, the skies over the kingdom of humans was beginning to resemble that of M'alketh itself. The war the Dragonlord so eagerly craved had finally begun.

Blood would run through the streets.


	5. Chapter 5

It was not the first time Cyrius had smelled blood, nor did he doubt it would be the last, however human blood always carried a sweet, yet coppery, taint to it that stung the nostrils in an almost pleasant way. He could still feel the warmth from the knight's dying breath against his shoulder, the moisture sticking to his scaled skin. With a sharp, silent wrench of the thin bladed dagger to ensure death, he withdrew the weapon from the human's chest and lowered the body slowly to the ground. The kill had taken minutes of waiting near the carelessly open window, seconds to execute, and not a sound had been made all the while. Wraith was scaling his way through the window as Cyrius dragged the body into a corner.

The room the two assassins found themselves in was lavishly decorated, perhaps belonging to the recently departed King or one of his nobles, which would explain the fact only the solitary knight had entered. Xodius had ventured to scout ahead and reported several spots on the lower floors where the guards and knights had barricaded themselves in to wait out the siege that was being set up outside, logic placed most of the halls as relatively empty as a result.

Still, that meant that more than one area would be overcrowded and deadly.

"Very well then, brother," Wraith slipped up alongside his fellow assassin and smiled a wide, toothy smile. "Shall you head to the eastern wings and I to the west?"

"Of course, that is following the plan devised earlier." Cyrius licked his blade clean and slid it home into its sheath. "These poor knights have never seen a battle in their lives, much less war. Do not count on them to be predictable in their actions."

Wraith snorted. It was, of course, all observations he had made himself, but had not ventured to voice. "When the bells sound three hours past midnight, I'll meet up with you back here."

Cyrius glanced towards the window. Twilight was passing into night leaving more than enough time to wreak havoc within the walls. He turned back to Wraith, offering a slight nod before moving out of the room and into the halls. The Keep, outwardly, appeared fairly straightforward, four main towers on the northern, eastern, southern, and westernmost corners of the parapets with a rectangular foundation and design. The outer ramparts surrounded the cloisters, which in turn surrounded the main structure of the keep that housed the dining halls, armory, barracks, and the King's personal quarters. The northern ramparts had already been laid to waste by Dra'keth, a parting gift before the Dragonlord departed to allow his forces to do their work. Reports from Xodius placed the remaining knights and guardsmen within the keep's main building, reinforcing barricades along a few hallways and stairwells that would allow them to fight and retreat to new areas of cover, keeping what little advantage they could within the narrow passages to stem the flow of an advancing horde.

Xodius…. Cyrius snorted softly, glancing back as Wraith followed the shadows of the hallway, moving to the eastern wing of the keep. The creature the warlock had sent to spy on their efforts was, while useful, a nuisance. Cyrius never could manage to be comfortable with the fact Dra'keth kept a watch on their thoughts, and having a demon under the command of Lycius that could pry into his mind with as little effort as was spent on breath was outright unnerving. Of course, after supplying the brief report on the humans' locations, the creature had managed to disappear with a speed and silence that was rather impressive.

Pressing himself to a wall to keep within the shadows, Cyrius worked his way down the hall, moving to the western wing of the Keep. Already, he could see where a hasty barricade had been set up utilizing desks, chairs, and bookcases, marking one of the fallback points the guardsmen intended to use, assuming they lived whatever assault they were anticipating. A quick scan revealed the place empty, a gaping hole in the wall revealing a room. The door, which had been removed from its hinges, was resting in a spot amongst the other items that made up the barricade. Cyrius smirked and inched his way towards the doorway, leaning in carefully to scan the room.

A single human was standing inside, his gaze set on the window that opened to the war taking place outside the keep. Pillars of fire could be seen marking the otherwise dark town beyond the ramparts, the smoke blotting out what would have been a starlit sky. Cyrius slid into the room, keeping silent as he started moving towards the human, dagger sliding out of its leather sheath more quietly than a whisper.

A noise hit the assassin's ears that caused him to pause mid-step. Almost like a whimper, the stifled sobs were curiously strange to him. He had heard cries before, most of pain or anguish, but this was different. He watched, not so much amused as curious as the human's shoulders sagged, his body shaking slightly with each cry. The pain behind them was subdued in sound, perhaps, but the emotional impact was strong enough to be felt as a presence. A grown man, human, was experiencing something tragic and painful enough that he was crying in solitude? Cyrius continued to watch for a few moments longer until his eyes settled on what was clutched tightly in the man's hand. A doll, stitched from rags with painfully oversized buttons for eyes barely filled the leather-wrapped hand. Even in the low light, though, the assassin could see where fire had licked the fabric, scorching it beyond repair.

_This man has lost everything he once held dear in his life. Death is merely a means of leaving this world to be reunited with loved ones._

Cyrius tensed, shifting his grip on the blade as he took a few steps closer, his free hand flexing in anticipation of a quick grab.

_You do not realize what drives these humans. Were a comrade to die, you would feel only anger. Dra'keth has blocked several emotions from ever stirring within you in an effort to control you._

He paused again. The thoughts that struck him before had been deemed the voice of his own logic. Now, however, he knew this was not the case and had to force himself to not hiss out loud. Xodius was prying into his mind again, whispering thoughts to him.

_Allow me to show you something. You may wish to brace yourself._

Cyrius paused mid-step again and felt a growl starting up deep within his chest, but the display of anger was cut short as his mind was suddenly flooded with images. He found himself watching, moving against his will through the streets of the city. Up above, a loud bellow of a roar sounded and a shadow streaked by overhead. His gaze shifted skyward, watching as the devilish form of Dra'keth circled, his maw gaping wide and unleashing a torrent of flame on the city below. The owner of the eyes Cyrius was looking through ducked, arms coming up to protect its head as splinters of wood and shards of stone showered the area from the explosion of fire. Heat washed over him, enough to be terribly uncomfortable, and he found himself running forward into the destruction. What met him was nothing short of the gates of Hell itself. Fire had reduced anything wood to ash, and the explosion caused by the destructive impact of the fireball had decimated several of the older buildings in the area.

A wave of emotion swept through Cyrius' mind, overwhelming him and causing a sting to enter his eyes as his host sprinted through the streets. Another explosion from further away could be heard, but was of little consequence as he soon found himself on his knees beside a burning pile of rubble. Human hands appeared, franticly tossing debris aside as they dug through the wreckage. Cyrius saw it before his host did, the body of two female humans amidst the carnage. One, the older of the two, was kneeling with her arms flung around the younger of the two defensively, her body burned by fire and half crushed by the resulting collapse of the stone building. The younger was not scorched, but death had come from a falling spar that had once supported the ceiling of the stone building. The splintered and burnt piece of timber had collapsed and pierced through the two, leaving the younger girl dead with her eyes opened wide. A frozen look of terror mixed with pain lingered on her preadolescent face, and in her hands was clutched a doll….

Cyrius was almost physically thrown back by the wave of emotions that took over his mind. Nausea, pain, horror, sorrow, and rage all collided into one, overwhelming his senses. The assassin was now standing back in the room, facing the guardsman with his dagger gripped tightly in his hand. A faint tickle on the side of his face caused him to reach a clawed finger up to his cheek, which felt moisture there. He gritted his teeth and sneered, damn that demon.

Michael would never know quite what it was that caused the hairs on his neck to stand on end, but something definitely startled him enough. His hand darted to his sword, drawing the blade with the ring of steel against scabbard as he whirled about. Having been startled, his breath was a ragged pant, but the cause for alarm seemed unfounded. The room, after a quick scan, was as empty as it had been when he ventured away from his fellow guards to lament. He lowered his blade, eyes shifting to the doll in his other hand. For a few moments, he thought the waves of uncontrollable emotion would hit him heavy again, but he managed to keep his composure and tucked the doll away. There would be time for more sorrow later, assuming he managed to survive. For the time being, he had work to do. Sliding the sword away, he gave the room a final glance before darting into the hall to rejoin the others at their barricades.

Wraith kept well to the shadows as he moved down the hallways. Even if the keep's layout had not been so primitive and predictable, he could have found his way to the first of the barricades by smell alone. The humans had an almost pungent aroma to them, most of it brought about by their sweat. There was also the peculiar fact that, when assured of their security, they lost all sense of silence and stealth. Voices echoed down the hallway as the guards stationed at the barricade discussed the situation. He listened for a moment or two before dismissing the talk as worthless idle banter and slinked towards the barricade.

Four humans were huddled together, wearing the colors and uniform of standard castle guards, hardly as experienced as a knight might be, and it showed. All attention on where the threat would be coming from was lost as they conversed, and only two of them had their weaponry on them, the other swords were leaning against the barricades. Wraith almost chuckled aloud at the sight, though it was understandable given the prominent lack of wars for any such forces to gain experience or understanding of a true danger to their well-being. The assassin flexed his claws and let his tongue play over the tips of his teeth. Daggers, while wonderful for quick, stealth kills, were far from effective when up against multiple targets. His own, natural born weaponry would do just fine.

His footsteps quickened, becoming more audible the closer he drew to the four. At first, the noise was covered by laughter as the guard closest to him told a joke, but the natural silence that followed was what finally gave his position away. By then, it was too late for them to react properly. The first of the two armed sentries fell as Wraith drove his claws into the man's throat; the second of the two fell shortly after, victim to the same fate. The two unarmed guards scattered with the initial attack, one fleeing down the hall to perceived safety, the other had more battle-minded reactions to the assault, jumping towards the blades leaning against the barricade. Wraith growled, crouching and lunging in an almost feral fashion to tackle the man, teeth flashing with a swift, lethal strike to the throat. The fourth was allowed to flee, shouts of a monster loose within the keep echoing down the halls. Standing, Wraith wiped the blood from his chin and left the corpses to help instill fear amongst the first responders, moving as silent as a ghost towards the next barricade.

_You are quite the devil incarnate, my friend._

Wraith hissed softly as he strode towards a nearby room, cracking the door open to ensure its vacancy before stepping in. The door latched behind him with a soft click, and he surveyed the surrounding area instinctively for available escape routes.

"You're one to speak. What do you want, beast? I have little time for a warlock's pet."

_I am no more his pet as you are Dra'keth's puppet, as far as you can perceive at any rate._

"That does not answer my question, beast," Wraith growled.

_It does set the tone of our conversation, however. I speak on behalf of your brothers, more to the point I on behalf of Dhark. I need you to listen to me carefully, Wraith. This war is unfolding swiftly, and you are currently shackled in a position you do not deserve to be in._

Wraith took another moment to scan the room, paying more attention in particular to the shadows than he normally would. Something was pressing in on him, an unseen presence that put him at unease. As a creature of the shadows, more at home in the darkness than the light, it was an almost terrifying thing.

"Where are you?"

_Standing behind you, Wraith. I do hope I did not scare you._

The assassin turned and took in the creature. It was the first time since he'd seen Xodius more than simply in passing. After a careful look at his stalker, Wraith finally grunted softly to show he was content to allow the conversation to continue.

_Good. I do not believe I would have allowed it any other way. I want you to listen to me carefully, because as we speak the sentries are roving the halls in force. Shortly after I led you here, one of their more competent knights passed by, he has no doubt gathered others to carry on the search. Cyrius is safe, you are not._

"You know nothing of what I can do, then. If you think that a mere human will be my downfall, then you are sorely mistaken."

Xodius shook his head slowly and glanced back at the door, his tail lashing. _I can assist you, but I require something else in exchange. I need you to seek out that place in your mind, the one you've kept hidden from Dra'keth just like your brothers._

Wraith snorted, a clawed hand waving in dismissal. "I told you, I do not require your assistance."

_You do desire to be free of his shackles, do you not? Now hurry! I will not discuss the full extent of what I can do however what you decide here and now will bind you to your fate. There are two distinct paths you can follow from here, but you have to decide now._

There was something about the urgency that drove the invading words in his mind that caused Wraith to hesitate. He glanced towards the door and could hear the footsteps down the hall as plate armored knights clattered towards his room, voices shouting and doors slamming shut as the other rooms were all being checked.

_Hurry you fool! Do you think I do this for my own benefit? Your own brother, Dhark, requested it of me._

"Dhark requested what?"

_That I free you from Dra'keth. Your time grows short._

Another door, closer to his, slammed and the footsteps moved in. There was pounding at the door to his room as the bodies on the other side fought to overpower the iron bolt locking them out. He finally growled and nodded.

"Very well. Do it."

_Time is short… I will do what I can._

Wraith was slammed backwards as he felt something like a fist crash into him. A sharp pain exploded in his head as a torrent of thoughts, emotions, and memories flooded his mind. The shadows around him swirled and merged, pressing in physically against him and squeezing the very breath from his lungs as he felt an unseen weight start to peel away from him.

A flash of light pierced through the darkness as the door crashed open. A knight wielding a battle axe shouted something and pointed as two guardsmen brought bows with notched arrows to bear. Noise left the scene as Wraith watched Xodius turn, the demon's eyes flashing brightly. Then, time itself slowed to a crawl. Wraith watched as Xodius' body crouched, talons digging into the rock floor of the room to leap towards the three assailants. The guardsman on the left was tackled, blood exploding from his throat as teeth buried into flesh, the arrow was released but sailed wide, missing Wraith's head. The assassin tried to move, but his mind wouldn't allow him, something within feeling as though his own thoughts were no longer connected to his body. The knight with the axe turned on Xodius, bringing the heavy weapon around in a smooth arc and catching the demon in the side. Sparks flew and a strange, yellow smoke that smelled strongly of sulfur spewed from the wound. Wraith suddenly found himself able to move, bringing his weapon up and poised to strike.

The arrow hit him first. The guardsman still standing released and was in the process of reloading for another shot. Xodius turned and, in a flurry of claws and teeth, beat the arrow to the bow, leaving the human a dismembered mess on the floor. Wraith could taste blood in his mouth and a strange, aching numbness seemed to be radiating outwards from his chest. Reaching down, he felt the wooden shaft of the arrow buried deep within his chest. The knight, quick to react, was charging in at the assassin, bringing his axe around and striking Wraith with a solid blow to the gut. Coughing, blood ran freely from both his wounds and mouth as he staggered back. The last thing Wraith saw was Xodius, the yellow smoke still spewing from his own wound, leaping onto the knight's back and the human's head falling free of his body as the demon's teeth did their work. The Drek'kan offered an almost pleased smirk before falling backwards, crashing through a window and vanishing into the darkness outside.

Cyrius heard the noise before he saw the sentries charging through the hallways. Shouts of alarm and of demons in the keep echoed, and with them came torches. He growled, but still had to smirk. Wraith always did enjoy the flair over subtlety, and fear instilled could easily cause more than enough fear and panic to work with. Still, things had changed. He still was not sure just what it was Xodius had done to him, but it was as though a massive burden had been lifted from his shoulders. His mind was full of activity, thoughts and memories that were once so oppressed they now seemed foreign to him. The most important part of it all, however, was the noticeable lack of another presence within his thoughts, monitoring everything. That single part was the most liberating of all.

He pressed himself to a wall and glanced down the next hallway, the final one that led to where he and Wraith first entered the keep. If Xodius was successful, they would both be meeting up there to leave. The demon had been quite clear on what needed to be done, and with that came instructions to act and appear as though nothing had changed. Dhark could be trusted, but his other brothers and sisters were still under the Dragonlord's influence, a matter still being worked on.

A smile crossed Cyrius' features as he thought of all of them, free to leave and pursue their own lives away from the forced war that was spreading southwards. Flyre could open a portal to a city somewhere, a place where they would all simply be regarded as strangers from a far off land, not the foot soldiers of a warlord seeking total annihilation of humanity.

A smell of sulfur caught his nostrils and he turned to look for its source. Xodius was standing behind him, and a thick, acrid smoke was pouring from a large gash in his side. Cyrius' first instinct was to scan for Wraith, but when no trace of the other assassin could be found he returned his focus to the smaller creature.

"Where's my brother?"

_He is slain. We were both cornered while I tried to break his mind away from Dra'keth's will. He was struck and fell from the keep, I cannot find any trace of him. I...am sorry._

A mixture of rage and sorrow crept into Cyrius' mind, his vision momentarily blurred by tunnel vision as he tried to calculate the best means of revenge, but a mental prod brought him back to his senses. "There was nothing that could be done?"

_Nothing. The three responsible are slain, I was wounded in the process. We should leave as it will not take them long to deduce that they can find me by following the stench from my injury._

"Tell me one thing first. Did you succeed?"

Xodius closed his eyes, deep in thought as he recalled the events in his mind. _I don't know._

Cyrius sighed and turned to glance down the hall once more. "Is the path to the room clear?"

_Yes. The keep's defenders are behind us, but moving quickly. We would be wise to do the same._

Cyrius nodded, turning to sprint down the hall and vanishing through the doorway. Xodius watched him go, turning to look back at the hallway before following suit. He ducked into the room and crawled onto the windowsill, taking a long look down. Cyrius was already gone, moving towards friendly forces and to safety. The cityscape was lit by orange as buildings burned, the armies of M'alketh advancing relentlessly. Already he could see a group, led by Flyre and Seiver, advancing towards the gates of the keep with siege engines not far behind. Some of the humans had already fled using hidden passageways, but those who remained behind would be dead by break of day.

Xodius sighed and spread his wings, taking to flight and moving towards the top of the keep's northern watchtower. Perching on a parapet as a gargoyle might, he closed his eyes in deep, focused concentration. The black smoke that shrouded the night sky parted over his perch, the moonlight filtering down to illuminate his body. The yellow smoke ebbed and, eventually, ceased to flow altogether as the wound began to mend. The process took a few minutes, but once done it was as though his hide had never been touched by the blade of an axe. Stretching his wings, he looked back down at the keep.

_Warlock Lycius, the siege begins. What would you have me do to assist?_

The reply he received was, to him, little more than words whispered on the wind as Lycius responded from behind the safety of friendly lines. A thin, cold smirk formed as he closed his eyes once more. His mind's eye watched as a few more humans slipped through the escape tunnels, and he let them. They all carried a role in the times to come. The ones that remained behind, little more than a handful, however, were doomed to a life of torture. The one or two that survived the initial onslaught of the bloodthirsty Drek'kan would be subjected to levels of pain that could only be found in nightmares.

Xodius let out a slow, soft sigh as words of a spell were whispered into the wind. His mind's eye watched as a circle bordered by an old, ancient script long lost to the world glowed into existence, the letters burning scarlet against the darkness of night. Within the circle, a six-pointed star flashed brightly as another burst of moonlight streaked down from the heavens. The keep was bathed in soft, white light that slowly grew to a blinding flash. At its peak, it vanished without warning, leaving the advancing siege stunned and momentarily uncertain of what to do. Within the keep, nothing stirred. Once Seiver and Flyre advanced past the gates, they would find no trace of the small force of defenders save for scattered bits of armor and weaponry that would seem to have simply been abandoned.

With a soft sigh, he let his mind reach out in an effort to find any trace of Wraith, but as before nothing revealed itself. Something still disturbed him. The death had been too abrupt for the injuries. What should have been a slow fading of the Drek'kan's presence was, instead, an abrupt change, like a wall being built to separate the two. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind for later, turning his attention instead to the battle taking place below. There was nothing left for the armies of M'alketh to do save loot and pillage. The humans that made up a majority of Dra'keth's forces were very keen on doing just that while the Drek'kan seemed more intent on establishing a camp and supply route. Warriors to the core with nothing else to interrupt their task, they were indeed wonderfully engineered weapons.

There was a brief, almost nagging tug that seemed rooted in his own soul as Lycius called him from afar. A short growl worked its way up from deep in his chest as he turned his gaze to a building silhouetted by flames. Unseen to the naked eye, he knew that was where the warlock stood, watching everything from a distance. Spreading his wings, he took to the air as the gates to the keep splintered and broke, Seiver leading the charge into the vacated fortress to claim it in the name of M'alketh.

"You seem troubled, my pet," Lycius said, smirking as Xodius lighted atop the building. "I trust all goes well?"

_Do I look as though I am troubled?_

"No, I can feel it. Not always, but sometimes, your emotions radiate in various colors within my mind. Right now, it is rather chaotic."

Xodius growled softly. _I shall have to be more careful in the future._

"Indeed."

_Wraith is slain._

It was Lycius' turn to be troubled. He gave the demon beside him a cold frown. "And Cyrius?"

_Escaped harm. The two were operating separately within the Keep. Wraith was discovered and the soldiers within overpowered him. Those responsible are dead, however._

"Good. At least he was able to die honorably, not cornered like some beast."

_And what would you know of honor, warlock?_

"Very little, my pet."

_Your seven…six Drek'kan now, carry honor above most other traits, even if they do not express such to others._

"You seem to have gotten to know them all very well in the short time since you've met them."

_Dhark in particular, he is a very astute individual, very in-tune with himself. He has impressed me quite a bit with what he knows, and perceives._

"Dhark is an outcast amongst the other Drek'kan. I do not expect him to ever fit in with the rest. It was our attempt to broaden the capability of our forces, and we decided to go a different path."

_He is a brother to the remaining six. They feel very little connection with the rest of the forces, together they are all outcasts, not just Dhark on his own._

"That is a curious observation to make, my pet." Lycius straightened up and smoothed his robes out with a hand. "Dra'keth is going to establish a presence here before moving on, but he wants my 'six' to scout further south for our next target. As such, we are going to be returning to M'alketh to review the maps and plan our next mission."

_Just us, then?_

"With a small contingent of forces, we will be, yes. However, the rest are going to remain here and turn this place into a stronghold. I assume you have no qualms with this?"

_Very few._

"Good." Lycius turned to make his way down the wreckage to the streets below. "I am going ahead. Assemble the team and have Flyre teleport the group back to M'alketh. I will meet you there."

Xodius hissed softly, but spread his wings to lift himself into the air. _It will be done, then, Warlock._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter V

"So, Ashland has fallen, and the council of kings is destroyed."

The man seated at the right-hand of the throne regarded the disheveled knight from Ashland with a cold, concerned glare. Well along in his years, his hair was long turned a white-grey, though his face and complexion lied about his true age. Somehow, the nobleman of Northshore had managed to keep his young looks sharp, hardly a wrinkle out of place. Ice-blue eyes were locked on the messenger, who had ridden in on an exhausted horse to bring news of war, carnage, murder, and destruction.

"That is correct, Lord Greymane. All of them were slain by the Dragonlord of M'alketh and his warlock." Edward stood, well aware that his own appearance was terribly unkempt. Armor that once glimmered in the sun was dull and coated in mud, his boots were travel-worn, and when compared to the fine crimson velvet the nobleman in front of him wore, it was even more painfully apparent. "My own forces were split, a majority of them retreating behind myself, a few volunteered to remain behind in an effort to slow the advance with instructions to retreat once the threat of being overwhelmed presented itself."

"Do you believe that these efforts were effective, Knight?"

Edward shook his head. "I am certain that most met their end at the hands of the enemy." He flinched, recalling the vivid image Lycius' demon had implanted in his mind of a field covered in blood. "I fear that the armies of M'alketh are already establishing themselves a stronghold in Ashland to prepare for another push southward."

Greymane regarded the knight for a moment or two in thought before speaking again. "You carried the title of your king's military advisor and protector, did you not?"

Edward winced. He could already tell where the question was leading him. "Yes, M'lord, this is true."

"What made you leave his side? I know such a role well enough to understand that, even facing a certain death, the king rarely dies without his protector at his side. Did you abandon your role?"

"No, M'lord." Edward took in a deep breath. "There was someone…something…hiding in the shadows. I went to investigate and while I was there, the Dragonlord murdered the gathered kings. I was spared by the simple fact I was carrying out my role and title."

Greymane nodded and stood, moving down the steps to the floor of the throne room. "Very well then, Edward. Walk with me and I will introduce you to the head of my military. While we walk, of course, I wish to hear everything."

"I came across a creature, the pet of that warlock Dra'keth uses to represent himself." Edward coughed, clearing his throat. "He showed me some visions of what the Dragonlord is using, and has in store. The main armies are still human, however he has a troop of elite warriors and magic users comprised of creatures summoned from the depths of an unknown void. Demon-dragons, they stand slightly taller than a man of your stature, but possess strength and abilities to harness magic as I've never seen. Dra'keth is using these troops to annihilate anything that stands in his way."

"Lycius' pet showed you this?" Greymane looked skeptical. "I would be hesitant to believe such things from a demon."

"As would I, normally. However, there is something about this demon that makes me hesitate to judge him as an enemy. He was the one that used his own abilities to draw me away from the stage that day. He can speak and whisper into the minds of others, plant images and thoughts which you know do not belong to you, but you can still hear…he told me to flee, and to offer a warning to Northshore as he feels this is where the armies will march next."

"You are telling me, then, we may have a potential ally and spy within the Dragonlord's ranks?"

Edward shrugged. "I wish I could be certain that he is simply not fulfilling his own agenda. For the time being, at least, I believe we can take what information he shares for what it truly is, that being the only help we really have outside of our own capabilities."

Greymane nodded and slowed his walk to look at Northshore. The main city itself was a simple affair, being not terribly different from any other harbor town. Ships tugged at their mooring lines in the current as others still furled their sails, returning from travelling the shipping lanes. What made Northshore a kingdom unique from others was that its domain skirted the entire western coast of the continent, giving its king and citizens a remarkable amount of control over trade and shipping. Of course, each town bore its own name, but the northernmost town was the place where the King claimed residency, as was evident by the towering coastal fortress and network of walls which secured the city.

"What made your source think that Dra'keth would pick this place next?"

"What would make you decide to claim Northshore, were you an advancing army?" Edward took a brief look around. "Strong fortifications and access to shipping lanes. Your privateers could offer security, but I cannot be certain how successful they could be. M'alketh does not, to my knowledge, possess ships of war, though that could change. Having Northshore would impact the supply routes established for any other nearby opposition for them, and grant them the capability of opening faster supply routes of their own. A military can only move as fast as its supply lines, otherwise the troops starve and cannot rearm after a battle."

"I see. Northshore is both a threat and an asset to them, then." Greymane sighed and took another long look at his fortifications. "Very well, then, we shall do what we must. I will have our young prince sent away to the south where he will be protected until he is of age to take the throne. I will let you speak with the General Talbot, and our navy's Admiral, Perrin, in regards to our own defense. If these creatures are as savage as you claim, I will most likely have anyone not capable of fighting depart for safer lands to the south." He paused and took another long look at the ships moored to their slips. "I will also have our fastest ships and riders depart to spread the warning of war. Your spy was very wise, or at the very least intuitive, to send you to me. You will find I have a considerable amount of influence amongst my peers in the other kingdoms. Being their source for trade and supply does have its benefits."

"Your assistance is greatly appreciated in this matter. I fear that the full scope of this affair eludes us, and that we may be victim to darker days than we know," Edward remarked, a hand reaching up to wipe at his armor in a poor effort to clean some of the grime away.

Greymane nodded somberly as he motioned towards a building which boasted a large, golden anchor with an osprey perched atop it, wings spread wide to soak in the sun. "I fear you may be right, Knight. This is the headquarters where you can find Admiral Perrin, he is not expecting you but if you make known you are visiting under my instruction, he will understand fully. As most seafaring men are, he is terribly blunt and does not enjoy skirting the issues, do not be afraid to be upfront with him."

Edward paused before entering the building, a glance going back to the nobleman who had escorted him. "I shall keep that in mind, M'lord."

"And please, Edward, you do not need to use that title when addressing me. We are both simply men without kings, working towards ensuring the survival of our people. You may call me Thomas, if you so wish. Now then, if you will excuse me, I will take my leave. When you are through talking to Perrin, see me and I will have quarters and a change of clothes waiting for you."

"Certainly M'lord...Thomas." Edward smirked before stepping into the Northshore Naval Headquarters building.

The main hall of the building was lined with oak, stained a dark color and decorated with various paintings, each depicting a ship belonging to the Northshore armada under full sail. Placards mounted beneath each painting detailed the ship's name and it's Captain. He read over a few before shifting his attention to the rest of the hall. One doorway was set a little ways down the hall to the left, the door itself propped open. A second door was facing the entrance to the building, closed tight. Based on what he had seen outside, a majority of the building lay behind the second door, only a small portion of it before.

Moving towards the door on the left, he knocked and found himself facing a relatively young gentleman clad in a dark blue uniform lavishly decorated with gold trim and epaulettes marked with two gold bars. The officer stood from where he had been seated, working on charts of some sort, and offered his hand.

"Lieutenant Theradon, sir. How may I assist you?"

Edward took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. "Lieutenant, I am Edward Algemonte, Knight of Ashland. I came on business and need to speak with Admiral Perrin."

The Lieutenant nodded and pointed towards the door at the back of the hall. "Through that door, take a left and you'll find the wardroom. The Admiral will be back there with the Captain of the _Princess Rose._"

Edward nodded faintly before following the directions as told. The back room was, in stark contrast to the front hallway, relatively bare. The wood that covered the clay walls and floor was plain and undecorated. A few doors were placed in the walls; he took the first one on the left and stepped into an entirely different scene.

The wardroom was a ceremonial room. A ship's bell, polished to immaculate standards, hung from a richly stained wooden frame, the Admiral's own name and flagship etched into the smooth bronze. More paintings, more of important officers within the fleet, were hung in order of precedence and rank, the names etched in almost excessively looped script. Two men were seated at the large table that took up a fair majority of the room, both ceased conversation immediately as the Knight entered unannounced.

One man, well in his thirties with rich black hair, was clad in a uniform similar to the Lieutenant, though in place of the two gold bars, his epaulettes bore a gold diamond. The second man was further along in his years, his uniform was lavishly over decorated. A rich, blue velvet overcoat was worn with a hard to miss gold star emblazoned on the shoulders. The older man, brown eyes set firmly upon the knight, also seemed the most displeased at the intrusion. Edward decided that the one with the star was the Admiral.

"Sir, pardon the interruption, but Lord Greymane sent me to speak to you. I am Edward Algemonte, Knight of Ashland." He offered his hand.

"Sir Edward Algemonte…the name rings no bells." The Admiral stood, giving the younger officer a nod in silent dismissal before taking the hand offered to him. "Admiral Perrin, Northshore Royal Armada." He motioned towards the seat just vacated. "Have a seat, by all means. So, Lord Greymane sent you to speak to me? Pray tell, what about?"

Edward took in a deep breath and began to relate the events that had transpired, starting with the council that had been called together, and the subsequent murder of the kings. The Admiral listened intently, though his gaze remained passive. Only when the story drew near its conclusion, and the imminent invasion of Northshore was detailed in full, did the Admiral finally speak.

"Grave news indeed, Sir Algemonte. It is heartening to think that we are not alone in this endeavor, though I can see why hesitance should be practiced when utilizing this…demon's knowledge and assistance. I assume Lord Greymane already has a tasking for my ships, then?"

"Yes. Currently, the Dragonlord does not have a fleet, so the supply routes can be used to evacuate anyone not capable of fighting to safety. He also wishes to use the faster ships to dispatch messengers abroad so that the other kingdoms can both learn of the fates of their leaders, and be forewarned of the coming danger."

Perrin nodded and let out a slow breath. "Very well… I will dispatch my sloops to carry the messages; they are the fastest to be found. The frigates will be standing by to carry personnel and escort the freighters south to safety. I will most likely have a few linger behind, enough to carry the fighting forces should the battle turn sour."

Edward nodded. "I am going to make myself more presentable, Greymane has a room set aside for me to do so. I shall leave you to your business, as it is what you know best. I am going to speak with General Talbot in regards to the same issue at hand."

"Nonsense, I will not hear of it. You have told me all there is to know, and I will relay it to my counterpart on the ground. You, to be quite honest, look like you are almost caught by death. I can only imagine you have been riding for, what, two or three days now? Get your rest, clean up, if you are at the dinner table then you are more than welcome to share your knowledge with General Talbot. The message is going out, that is the most important thing. Warriors are always warriors; we can begin the garrison tomorrow."

Edward nodded slowly, becoming more aware of just how exhausted he truly was. Standing, he offered a parting nod and handshake before moving back through the hallway and moving towards Northshore's fort. Greymane was nowhere to be seen, however one of the stewards was waiting and showed him to a room. Armor was dropped upon entering, and he took time to hang it on the provided stand before looking around the room. It was a quaint affair, a simple bed with silk and velvet sheets done in crimson was terribly inviting, but he turned his attention first to the tub resting behind a privacy screen, hot water already prepared. With a soft, relaxed sigh, he undressed and settled into the water, his eyes closing of their own accord as he soaked in the warm water.

_Hello, Knight._

Edward startled himself awake, his heart skipping a beat as he took in his surroundings. A silent curse escaped him as he stood, resting against one of the thick, sturdy oak trees. A faint drizzle of rain settled over the forest glade and he searched frantically for his horse to resume his ride to Northshore.

_Your search is in vain, Knight._

"Where is my mount? I must get to Northshore."

_Look at your surroundings carefully, Knight. You are in a dream fabricated within your own self conscious. There is no horse, there is no Northshore. Even the rain you perceive to be there is not touching your skin._

Edward began to regain control of his breathing as he looked. It was true, the rain had begun to saturate the leaves in the trees, and his skin was still dry. "What sort of foul sorcery is this?"

_It is no sorcery. You are asleep, this is the dream that is floating within your mind, and also the means for myself to best contact you._

"I have questions to ask you."

_As I expected you would, Knight, and you may do so at this time. However, I would ask that you keep it brief._

"Who are you?"

_You may call me Xodius._

Edward waited, expecting more, but when no elaboration came he carried on. "Very well, Xodius." He glanced behind him and found a spot to sit, resting his back against a tree. "You have been assisting me. I know the secrets about the Dragonlord's army and the plan to advance came from you, I can recognize the sound of your thoughts within my own."

_You are quite astute, especially for a human; that is quite remarkable. However, the question I believe you wished to ask is the simple word of 'why', am I correct?_

The knight nodded. "It is not like a demon to assist the likes of humans, or so my knowledge of the subject would suggest."

Xodius spat to one side and took a seat. _You see me as a demon, just as I see you as a human. However, the title of human does not, nor will it ever, carry your allegiance with it. A human can be as evil as it can be good, or neutral for that matter. You look upon me as one which carries the title of 'demon', but does such a name by default render me as malicious and cruel?_ He shook his head slowly. _As it is, I am no demon. I came from the void, yes and when the warlock Lycius opened the gateway, it was my way of escaping that wretched prison. Now, I am here within your world, and Lycius has managed to bind his will to my soul, again leaving me trapped._

"So, you seek your own freedom."

_Amongst other things. What I have seen of this world I have enjoyed. There is both much to learn, and much to improve, however neither can happen so long as the threat to the north exists…and so long as Lycius keeps me chained._

"How does assisting me bring about your freedom, why not simply take it upon yourself to break free?"

_Lycius is a powerful warlock, I cannot simply will the chains to break. If I take it upon myself to destroy him, then when he dies I will be pulled back through the void until another warlock manages to call me forth, which will never happen. I need Lycius to be slain by another so that the shackles can be broken, only then will I be free._

"And what will you do once you are free of Lycius' control?"

_I will enjoy the world until I am no longer living within it._

Edward was silent again as he pondered over the responses given to his questions. "What can I do to help?" he finally asked.

_You need do nothing more than what you have already done. When the Drek'kan march on Northshore, you must ensure that those who stand in opposition of their advance see that the creatures Dra'keth views as immortal harbingers of death can be defeated. It may not be a sound victory, but even if they see one die, they will know they face a mortal foe. As for my freedom, I am working to achieve that through my own means, you will have nothing to do with it._

"I see." Edward frowned, but shrugged at the same time. "Why did you decide to see me tonight?"

_As you said earlier, you had questions. I also wanted to see how receptive you were of my own wandering mind. It is beneficial to know that, in your sleep, I can reach you if the need arises._

The Knight nodded and went to push himself to his feet, though weariness had set in and forced him to remain sitting against the tree. "Will this be all for now, then?"

_Until next we meet, Knight, and rest assured we will meet again soon. Besides, you are beginning to wake up. Understandable for someone who has been asleep for as long as you have been._

Edward straightened up. "As long as I have? How long have I been asleep, then?"

_Since last night. It was your prolonged sleep that allowed me to find you. If I were you, I would wake up; the General of Northshore is absolutely full of questions for you. You will be quite pleased to know that I have already offered you the answers to a majority of his questions, just speak naturally and the information required will present itself._

Edward shuddered involuntarily at being reminded of just how vulnerable his own mind could be. "Very well, I will relay that information. Might I ask one more question, though?"

_Yes, but be quick._

"How large of a war are we going to be facing?"

_I cannot say for certain; however the Dragonlord's armies will not falter until their master falls._

Edward sighed softly and closed his eyes in thought. "Thank you."

There was no answer. When Edward opened his eyes, he was back in the somewhat familiar surroundings of the room. Someone, most likely the steward, must have found him asleep in the tub, because he was now settled on the bed. Pushing himself up, he spotted a pair of simple, tan breeches and a crimson felt tunic folded neatly atop the dresser. Getting dressed, he could only smile as he noticed both his armor and sword had been polished to a shine, Ashland's crest striking a bold image against the mirror surface of the breastplate. Donning his sword belt, a brief inspection showed the blade bore a new, keen edge as well.

Stepping out of the room, he made his way down the stairwell that led in to the common area of the fortress, crossing the hall quickly to the throne room. Greymane was seated, again, in the right-hand seat beside the throne, Admiral Perrin stood nearby and, clad in regal armor of mirror plated steel laced with gold, was the man that could have only been General Talbot, pacing impatiently and deep in thought.

The general was well on in his years, by the looks of his receding, ash-grey hairline and the wrinkles that seemed to permanently etch a troubled look in his face, he almost seemed as though he could be in his fifties. The pale blue eyes, however, belied his age and were sharp, almost like those of a hawk. Edward had little doubt the man had seen his fair share of conflict, though where such battles would have occurred he could only guess. As he drew closer, the general flickered a glance towards his fellow knight and stepped forward to both close the distance and offer a hand in greeting.

"Sir Algemonte, Perrin here has been telling me of your plight…of our plight. I'm rather disturbed to hear of the events that transpired and of King Sillian's passing. King Teyrel as well. As his Champion, it is undoubtedly a hard reality to face. I only wish I had been there to assist."

The words were, of course, a formality. Talbot would not have been able to stop any of the kings from their burning deaths. For a brief moment, the nightmarish blaze that engulfed the council flashed in Edward's mind, and he cleared his throat to help will the images away.

"General, Admiral, M'lord Greymane." Edward let out a slow, relaxing sigh as he tried to refocus himself on the matters at hand, the dream Xodius forced into his mind repeating itself slowly. "I should say, before we begin or move further, Xodius visited me last night in my thoughts."

Greymane frowned, the other two seemed skeptical, but politely silent. When none of his military leaders spoke, the nobleman took it upon himself and motioned Edward to continue. "Please, do share."

"He does not think Northshore will stand against the onslaught, nor is Northshore going to be the only place assaulted. Your kingdom, M'lord, is the proving grounds for his hellspawned creatures. They will be the only assaulting force to confront your militaries. The armies composed of his human allies will be moving to take other objectives elsewhere."

Perrin snorted and shook his head. "With luck, our messengers will arrive in time for the others to establish defensive lines."

Greymane nodded in agreement. "I believe they will, yes Admiral. What worries me more is the assumption we will not stand for long here. Yesterday you said he sent you here because of its strategic value, but now your spy is willing to say otherwise?"

"I stand by Northshore's strategic value. I believe that a majority of the battles will take place either here, or at other points along your kingdom's shoreline. He said the ultimate value in a battle at Northshore is not that we make a stand and hold, but rather to prove to the others the Drek'kan can die."

There was an uneasy silence as they all considered the ultimate ramifications of such a grim goal. Talbot was the first to speak for all of them.

"Surrender and retreat are not an option, then, for those who remain to defend our port." He glanced at the other three, blue eyes flashing with an icy chill. "I will select a choice few to stay here and fight without retreat, led by myself. My full military might will stay for the first day, should we last that long, and upon the setting of the sun will retreat onboard your ships, Admiral, using the cover of night. Myself and those selected to remain behind will hold them at bay."

Greymane stood and marched down the stairs, giving Talbot a cold, commanding glare. "You will do no such thing, General! It is either all or none, I will not leave my men to die at the hands of Dra'keth's monsters."

"Reason dictates otherwise, M'lord, and you know it. We have to give them hell their first night, kill any and all we can. Edward's spy is correct, the rest of the world needs to know that the demons can die. I would also like to keep as much of my force intact as possible to ally with and assist others in the war to come. One night is all I need to make this happen, and then I shall stay behind with a smaller force to ensure that everyone else can reach safety."

"I see no flawed logic to his plan, M'lord," Perrin spoke up, though his voice reflected the same disappointed tone as Greymane's earlier retort. "I would do the same, were I in his position."

"You cannot stay, General. I need you to direct our forces in battle elsewhere," Greymane crossed his arms, his face resolute.

"No, M'lord, I shall not. I cannot send my men to do something I would not do myself. Give me this honor in death, allow me to ensure the safe retreat of my men from the frontlines."

Silence fell about the chamber before Greymane simply nodded. "Have your forces selected and ready by this evening. Prepare our ships for a ranged bombardment of the shore where our enemy might approach. We will offer naval support to the best of our abilities to prolong the inevitable retreat we face. After that, General, you shall have your honor and glory in one final stand while we retreat to the southern provinces."

"Thank you, M'lord." Talbot glanced at the others and offered a faint bow. "I should see to my men."

"Of course, General. Have your battle plans drafted and ready for this evening's meal." Greymane returned the slight bow before turning to Perrin. "Do the same with your ships. Have the batteries set to deliver their payloads to the shoreline, I expect to hear cannon fire shortly as the gunners mates sight in."

Perrin nodded, taking a bow. "Of course, it will be done." He turned on his heel with Talbot and, discussing silently amongst themselves, the two started walking towards the door.

Alone with Greymane, Edward perked a curious eyebrow at the nobleman as he settled back in the right-hand seat to the throne. "These are looking to be troubled times, Edward."

Sighing softly, the Knight shuffled. He was beginning to feel out of place without a military of his own to lead. Passively, he wondered how many of his men escaped from the Keep; if Alexander escaped. "It is; I hope that such is not the case." He shifted as he heard a thundering boom. A cannon firing. Had he been visiting under different circumstances, he would have been absolutely dazzled at the weapons. It was, apparently, spawned from some alchemic engineers with too much time, and too few fingers as a result.

"Sir, I should mention that there was more to what Xodius told me in my sleep."

Greymane's eyebrow perked again as he regarded the Knight, silently motioning him to continue.

"This war that is about to break out over all of our lands will not end until the head has been removed from the snake. Dra'keth must die."

The look on Greymane's face was both disappointed and pained. "Then, I fear that these are not so much troubled times as an impending catastrophe."

Another thundering boom in the distance caused Edward to glance towards the ceiling. Outside, something whistled by. "Not quite. Rather, this is a nightmare that I wish I could wake from."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VI

News of the death of their brother was far from welcome news when the remaining six Dra'keth Lycius deemed his 'children' assembled. Xodius and Dhark shared a swift, telling glance, and after a brief shake of his head, the demon turned away from the masked pain that flashed through the druid's mind. He had failed to free Wraith before his death, and as such had failed one of the seven he promised to free. Catching the glance, Cyrius gave his earth-tied brother a brief glance, though nothing further was shared between the two before Lycius stepped into the chamber, the very same he had used to call forth Xodius.

"Ah, my children, such tragedy as could ever be imagined has befallen us all. One of our own has fallen to the enemy's treacherous defiance. Wraith will be missed, and we shall avenge him in due time. First and foremost, however, we must decide where to make our next strike."

Xodius watched as they all regarded their illegitimate master and summoner, reading their expressions and emotions. Seiver and Myriad were surprisingly neutral in their sentiments, doing a spectacular job of hiding their true feelings on the situation. Dhark and Cyrius were upset, but a lingering patience and understanding of what lie ahead kept them calm. Wrayne and Flyre, however, had dark clouds of hatred and anger hovering over them. Wrayne's anger was directed almost fully at the Grandmaster Warlock standing before him. Flyre, however, was making little effort to hide her resentment towards the warlock's pet, thoughts which placed an unofficial blame for Wraith's death directly on the creature who had accompanied them into Ashland's keep.

Xodius dismissed it and turned his attention to Lycius, keeping silent and to himself as he listened to the thoughts circling around him, taking in everything he could grasp as he continued to plot his own course of action.

"Wraith will be missed," Seiver spoke up before anyone else could. "I recommend a moment of reflection for our departed brother before we continue."

There was a murmur of agreement from the other Drek'kan. Lycius, Xodius noticed, was sternly silent. After the minute had passed, the Grandmaster Warlock made his way to the center of the chamber, muttering a brief incantation as a sigil appeared and hovered in the air before him, the glyphs that surrounded the symbol glowed a bright scarlet. Slowly they melded and meshed together, the sigil taking on various valleys and mountains as terrain appeared. Soon, a magical representation of the surrounding kingdoms appeared, hovering in the air before them all. M'alketh stood cold, the small mountain spewing black smoke just as the real one would. Small figures, Drek'kan, were tearing their way towards the woods that led to Northshore while other armies began to advance south in a strong push for Killjaren, a smaller kingdom known more for its champion-bred horses than anything.

"Right now, our forces are advancing at a fast pace. Fortunately, the supply lines are quick to follow. We are going to leave the battle to them for now, however, and venture out to begin undermining the forming enemy alliances." Lycius muttered softly and, with a wave of his fingers, the map changed. Now it was a close-up view of a kingdom just to the south of Killjaren's borders, Mystal. "Dra'keth has observed ships from Northshore departing and depositing messengers along the coastline. Forces are being sent to Mystal to gather in preparation for a counter-attack against the impending assault on Killjaren. Their military leaders are obviously anticipating our imminent sack of this particular kingdom and acting accordingly."

"Where do we come in, master?" Wrayne flickered his glance from the map to the Grandmaster Warlock curiously.

"We are going to travel to Mystal and destroy their position before they can reinforce it."

Silence lingered for a moment as they all weighed the potential. Six Drek'kan against an army of countless numbers, while certainly promising glory in its finest, though little chance of returning alive. Wrayne broke the silence.

"We would not stand a chance against so many, especially with so few."

Lycius snorted softly. "Mystal is a kingdom of weak minded humans. They do not believe in any magic save a few minor healing spells to treat small injuries. I myself have seen their numbers in my own visions and scrying, and they are very few. Take on ten for each one of you, and you shall succeed with ease. Do not believe this to be an insurmountable feat. If you work as a team, you cannot fail. Seiver, I will leave the details to you. Study this map, devise an avenue of approach and I will see to it one of our mages can transport you where you need to be. I shall be sending Xodius with you as well to assist, his skills will prove invaluable in the battle for Mystal."

Xodius could feel Flyre's eyes boring into him like daggers laced with flame. Again, he ignored her, watching as Lycius made his way towards the stairwell that led out of the chamber. Silence lingered until the Grandmaster had departed, and with a simple nod towards Dhark and Cyrius, the small demon turned his attention to the map.

As Seiver was busy studying the finer details of Mystal's defensive walls, the map abruptly vanished in a puff of smoke and black flame. Shocked by the suddenness of it all, he staggered back and reeled to search out the offending beast, giving each a scrupulous glare until his gaze settled on Xodius.

"Calm yourself, Brother. We are not assaulting Mystal, not today, not tomorrow, not ever." Dhark stepped forward to place a reassuring hand on Seiver's shoulder. "There is going to be a change in plans, one which you will all favor."

Xodius smiled as both Cyrius and Dhark shared their newfound freedom, the plan for them all to escape the dreaded hell that was M'alketh, and for the untimely demise of Lycius. Reading the flood of thoughts and emotions that slowly filled the chamber, he found himself elated with the six of them, sharing the glimmering joy that was promised them. Even Flyre, though she was still harboring reserved thoughts against him, was regarding him in a new, more understanding light. When they were done, the four who had yet to be turned were all watching him carefully, their thoughts calculated and reserved, concealed within the protected walls of their minds where Dra'keth could not reach or pry.

_And now you all know the true intentions I bring with me to this table. Dhark was the first to be freed, he was the one who asked I extend the offer to all of you, and in return I shall gain my own freedom. With Lycius' death, the chains that bind me shall be broken._

"Was Wraith offered the same freedom?"

Xodius turned to Seiver, offering a sympathetic smile. _Wraith was, and indeed had agreed to be freed when our position was assaulted. As I told Cyrius, and later Lycius, I was wounded, Wraith was slain, and those who felled him were left dead on the stone floor. I could not free him, but I avenged him as best I could._

Seiver took a seat and rested his head in his hands, deep in thought. Flyre was off to one side, conversing in hushed tones with Dhark on the matter, and Flyre was sharing a cautious look with Wrayne. Wrayne finally gave her a pat on the shoulder and looked towards Xodius.

"I think I can safely speak for all of us here. What we do, we have always done together. It pains me that Wraith will not be able to share this with us, however some things cannot be helped. I will do whatever I can to repay you for your freedom. If it means destroying Lycius, then all the better for it. His blind ambition is what created us, gave us our own thought, and shackled us with unseen chains. Now, with this arrogant assault on Mystal to prove our worth against the other armies, he only proves further that he has no care for us save what brings him glory in Dra'keth's eyes. I want my thoughts to be fully my own. We all do."

Xodius smirked as he watched them all nod their heads slowly in agreement, Seiver being the last to do so. _Very well then. It shall be done, one at a time though. All I ask is that you prepare yourselves, calm your minds, I need to be swift and cannot risk finding myself lost within cluttered thoughts. Lycius will be returning soon._

He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath to relax himself, calming his nerves in preparation for what promised to be a terribly taxing endeavor. With four being ripped from Dra'keth's umbrella consciousness, the Dragonlord would undoubtedly notice, as such time was of the essence. He concentrated firstly on Flyre, allowing himself to drift through her mind, seeking out the dark tendrils of Dra'keth's own dominance, breaking their grasp and anchoring them outside of Flyre's own mind to a false consciousness that belonged to nothing. In his mind's eye, it was an orb writhing with the tendrils already torn from Cyrius and Dhark, and soon to be joined by the others. A curious current of thoughts caused him to pause, and swiftly drew a silent chuckle as he watched fonder, more secretive images of the mage and druid. How he had not seen the shared compassion between the two when he had freed Dhark was beyond him, and he moved on.

_You are free, Mage. Quickly, work on building a portal to move your brothers and sister to freedom. We will need to move with haste once the last of you is freed._

He moved to Myriad next. The priest was ripe with odd magical knowledge that took the spells a priest might use for healing, twisting them to not only destroy their intended target, but to drain the essence of life and channel it elsewhere to be used for healing of allies. Quite a dark twist on the traditional healing role priests played, and a darker part of his own mind took careful note of the inner workings of each spell so he could dissect and admire them later when time could be afforded. Partnered with the dark spells was also a curious collection of white magic, she could heal those in need with a simple thought, if she so desired. He broke the last tendril of its hold and transplanted it safely, feeling a faint fatigue drifting slowly in. He would have to hurry before weariness overtook him completely.

Seiver was next, and a remarkably easy affair. He was surprisingly skilled at clearing his own mind, making it ready for the work that needed to be done. Little effort was wasted as was little time. Of course, where his mind had been opened for the work that needed to be done, a large majority of his own thoughts and skills were barred from prying eyes. Xodius hid his disappointment at not being afforded a chance to study his new ally's abilities unhindered, but moved on regardless.

Wrayne was immediately a nightmare. Dark magic twisted and writhed its way through the warlock's unconscious mind like a storm. Chaotic torrents of energy rolled like waves, seeping into conscious thought before slipping away again to rejoin the rivers that flowed within him. At first, Xodius recoiled from the sheer power that was held within. Forced to work his way slowly, however, he soon found his way through to the core of Wrayne's mind, working to release the Dragonlord's hold. As he worked, he could only marvel at the sheer power that was contained within the warlock, and he could tell clearly who Lycius' favorite 'child' had been. Wrayne was like a hurricane brooding in the warm waters, gathering strength, fully unaware of the full potential it could reach given the proper time and conditions to prepare.

"The portal is ready."

Xodius finished with Wrayne and exhaustion hit him with the force of a brick wall. He reeled, trying to collect his own thoughts and regain control of his mind. Stray thoughts that had been created as mock images of the Drek'kans' minds still floated through him as the Dragonlord's probing anchors were attached to them, cast into an abyss where, hopefully, they would offer diversion enough to allow them an escape.

"Xodius, are you alright?"

The voices in his mind were speaking to him. But that was not possible, there was no way the cloned thoughts could speak to him. Xodius opened his eyes and found himself staring at Wrayne. Flyre was off to one side, arcane magic flickering from her fingertips to fuel a portal that opened into a heavily wooded area.

_I am fine. Lycius is returning._

"Dhark, take Myriad, Seiver, and Cyrius through the portal. Ensure it is safe for the rest of us. I will stay here to deal with Lycius. Flyre, find a safe place so you can reopen the portal once I am through with the Grandmaster."

Xodius felt his eyes drift shut again, his mind overwhelmed yet again by the surge of power that was swimming through the warlock. It had nearly been his undoing, travelling through torrents of magic that had the spells embedded within them to unravel his very being and banish him from the physical plane.

"Xodius!"

He woke up again, eyes focusing on Wrayne once more. The portal was gone, Flyre was in another chamber further down the hall. It was just himself and the warlock. He could hear Lycius' thoughts moving closer as his own continued to cloud over. The Dragonlord's anchored chains must have been set with far more force than he had anticipated, or realized.

That, or the Dragonlord had been actively trying to counter his efforts.

"Stay with me, I can't have you falling dead before you're free now, can I. Wraith would never have let me hear the end of it, nor would the others."

Xodius stood, his metal talons digging into the rocky floor with ease as he threw his head back. It was the only time he had ever heard himself utter a physical sound; he never thought to try before now. The roar that was bellowed from deep within him echoed from the stone walls. Wrayne covered his ears, eyes closed in pain from the noise that battered his ears. The sudden, raw release of emotion did its job well, however, and as the noise died Xodius could feel his mind clear. He sat down on the stone floor, tail snaking behind him idly as he collected himself. Wrayne, recovering from the loud noise, was giving him a wary look.

_Lycius is here._

"Indeed I am." The Grandmaster Warlock was stunned. If he had not heard the loud roar, then something equally terrifying had etched the cold, shocked look on his face. Slowly, he took in the chamber, his eyes finally settling themselves on Wrayne. "What are you doing to my pet?"

Wrayne straightened himself up, his own robes falling back into place as he stood tall and defiant before his creator. "I am doing nothing. Xodius was the one who did everything, and he has my eternal thanks for it."

Lycius regarded the other warlock, eyes probing carefully before he saw it. There was a faint flicker, like a flame, hiding behind Wrayne's eyes that had not been there before. "What have you done?"

"I have accepted freedom. Xodius gave it to me, just as he gave it to my brothers and sisters, just as he was going to give to Wraith before he met his untimely death." Wrayne clenched his fists together as black fire was summoned, the shadowy energy writhing and begging to be released. "And now, Lycius, I go to return the favor."

The floor in front of Lycius exploded as the bolt of shadowfire struck the ground, the Grandmaster Warlock saved by reflexes alone as he called up a quick ward to protect himself. Xodius slipped to one side, forgotten, as the two summoned sigils and glyphs, calling down fire to rain from the stone ceiling above; shadowy explosions that carried shrieks like tormented souls into the air. He watched, fascinated, as Wrayne called forth a wall of fire that snaked towards his foe, almost able to detect a face and eyes that locked onto their targets as the flame sped along the ground. Lycius countered with one of his own, and the two met in the middle of the chamber with a glorious explosion of heat that forced everyone to shield their eyes.

Xodius looked up once the heat had died, as did Wrayne. Lycius was nowhere to be seen, his footsteps retreating swiftly up the stairs to the hallway. With a growl, Wrayne took up pursuit as Xodius followed the whisper of his involuntary master, cursing all the way.

_He aims to find the Dragonlord, to turn his power against you._ He closed his eyes, drawing up a mental map of the catacombs, tracing the quickest path to the Dragonlord's chambers near the mountain's summit. The fortress, due to the widespread advance of the armies, was fairly empty. Only a few souls required to keep the basic facilities functioning remained behind, none would interfere in this battle, though, the only one which threatened to be called into the fray was the Dragonlord, and he could not join so long as they were confined to the tight quarters of the lower levels. There was still a chance.

The two burst through the doorway and into the main hall that navigated the undercroft of M'alketh. Wrayne spotted Lycius fleeing and, with a whispered spell, sent another trailing snake of fire after the warlock. It sped along and forced the Grandmaster to turn, summoning another ward. This time, however, Wrayne was ready. He countered and a bolt of fire streaked towards the ward, striking just as the snake was absorbed. The two together overpowered the simple protective spell and, robes singed, Lycius was flung against a wall. His head struck stone with a sickening crack, but he still managed to pull himself to his feet.

With eyes that were ripe with death locked on Wrayne, Lycius chuckled softly and went to wipe a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. Wrayne walked slowly to close the distance, the firelight of another spell already dancing dangerously in his eyes.

"You are a fool to try and face me on your own, Wrayne. Your own powers are far from complete, you lack the one skill that makes a true warlock." The Grandmaster motioned with a finger, beckoning not for Wrayne, but for the creature behind him. "Come, my pet…fight by my side."

Wrayne straightened and glanced at Xodius as the creature walked past him, turning to stand obediently at the Grandmaster's side. "Fight it, Xodius. You do not need to serve him!"

_I have no choice in the matter. This is the bond forced upon me, the chains that shackle my will to his. Much as I deny acceptance of the fact, I am his to command._

A cold laugh echoed through the hall as Lycius reached down to tap Xodius' head thoughtfully. "I own him, my child. He is mine, and now, just as he freed you, he will destroy you." He leaned down and whispered something to the creature.

Eyes wide, Xodius gave Wrayne a pleading look and dug his talons into the floor. _Wrayne…either destroy Lycius, run, or destroy me. Please forgive me what I am about to do._

The demon's crimson eyes turned black in a swirling, chaotic instance as a series of glyphs flashed across the walls of the hallway. Mere moments after their appearance, explosions rocked the battleground, shadowflame erupting violently outward to destroy anything and everything in its path. Wrayne managed to conjure a quick ward to take the brunt of the blast, but was sent reeling from the shockwave that came with the explosion, rock and other debris tearing at his skin.

Recovering, he stood shakily to his feet and prepared a spell of his own. It came too slow and a blur of shadow flickered through his field of vision. Pain erupted quickly after as a ragged row of four identical gashes marred the flesh beneath the front of his robes. He doubled over again and looked up into the sorry eyes of Xodius, the creature he sought to free in exchange for his own freedom. The eyes were full of regret.

"I am sorry. I tried."

_I know. I should never have asked this of you I offer my apologies as well._

"At least the others are free."

_This is true. I fear, however, Lycius will only have me hunt them down and destroy them. He knows I can, just as he knows he can force me to do such._

"Then there is only one thing to do."

_Destroy me._

Wrayne shook his head and muttered. The ground beneath Xodius exploded in a flurry of shadowflame which quickly imploded back in on itself, the concussion effect momentarily stunning the demon. Pushing himself to his feet, Wrayne acted quickly, drawing up on a reserve of energy kept deep within himself.

Fire exploded next to Lycius' head and the warlock hissed. Wrayne paused his own casting, turning to look back behind him as Flyre launched another fireball past him in an effort to strike the Grandmaster Warlock, the determination on her face clear and unmistakable. He smiled, grateful for the sudden assistance.

"You handle him, I'll take care of our friend."

She nodded to him as she released another ball of molten rock and fire, the brick that made up the catacomb walls melting from the resulting explosion. Sensing his opportunity, Wrayne returned his focus to Xodius just as the demon cleared his head of the daze.

The fight was back on as he turned and retreated down the hall, moving towards the chamber where the battle began. Xodius was hot on his heels, the talons clattering at the rock floor with each step, each step bringing him closer than the last. Wrayne turned at the stairwell, his hands raised to summon the spell used to daze the demon once again, but the words were only half spoken as the creature tackled him at full speed, sending both tumbling down the stairs and into the chamber below. Wrayne's head struck rock with a sharp crack, leaving him stunned, while Xodius tumbled off to one side in a mix of tattered wings. Both pushed themselves up, Wrayne knowing his life was on the line, Xodius bound to Lycius' will to fight.

_You should have killed me when you had the chance, I cannot promise the opportunity will afford itself again._

"I don't have to kill you," Wrayne smirked, again summoning an explosion that rocked and dazed the demon in front of him. "I just have to stall you for a little while."

With Xodius dazed, he closed his eyes in deep concentration and called up a spell of sheer will. His mind told him it could work, but he had never attempted it, nor knew quite where it spawned from. The sigils that resulted from the chanted mantra hung like fire as they circled and surrounded Xodius as the demon recovered from his daze and charged.

Sparks ignited and flew about the chamber as the barrier was struck, sending Xodius sprawling. He stood and charged again, finding the same result the second time around. Growling with frustration not his own, he pressed himself against the barrier to try and overwhelm it, watching as the magical wall flexed and stressed to contain him.

_It can only hold for so long, you do not think this will work, do you?_

"I can hope."

Flyre had the warlock on the defensive, though it was slowly starting to tax her own mental state. Weariness had set in, her own spells starting to come more sluggishly as her fingers drew fire from the air and molded it into the deadly projectiles she sent after Lycius. She had known magic was draining, but never had she known a battle like this. Lycius was a master of his trade, gifted in fire and shadowflame, able to command demons to do his bidding, to cripple and poison others with a mere thought and deep concentration.

She was a mage, skilled in the arcane and in controlling the elements, but he was still well above her. The only advantage she had came from the initial element of surprise, and the fact Wrayne had already battered at Lycius' magical defenses.

She called up a barrier to absorb a blast of shadow energy before answering in kind with a cone of icy air that left a layer of frost clinging to the walls of the pock-marked and cratered hallway. The ice quickly melted, however, as fire met fire in a clash of wills, the warlock's own hellfire against hers. She lost, forced to drop back on the defensive or risk being consumed by the flames. A hiss escaped her as she called up barriers to diffuse, absorb, and reflect the onslaught that was sent her way. Shadowflame and fire exploded all around her, leaving rubble and dust, mixed with blood and charred flesh when a hit was scored. Lycius, behind the wall of pain, was laughing hysterically.

"I expected only to have to kill Wrayne today, I did not expect I would have the chance to kill you as well, Flyre. Such a pleasant surprise."

She snarled and, as a break afforded itself, snapped a quick blast of fire off that sent him reeling, fleeing the sudden, scorching heat. "I do not plan on dying today, Lycius." She conjured up another quick bolt of fire that didn't burn, but was hot enough to keep him seeking cover. Her window opened and she poured her efforts into turning the tide of the battle. An explosion of chilled air radiated outward, flash-freezing the hall in its wake and catching the warlock in its chilly grip. He stumbled, slipped on the ice, and fell. Her eyes flashed fire and brimstone as a rock of molten fire was conjured in her hands and flung at the warlock. It struck home, eating into his flesh and leaving his arm a charred wreck, the smell filling the air and tickling her nostrils.

"Please, please have mercy!" He cowered, crawling with his good arm as he tried to shield himself with the smoldering remains of the other. "I meant no harm, I was only doing as I was ordered by the Dragonlord!"

Flyre shook her head, the fire dancing from fingertip to fingertip as she advanced on him. "I don't plan on giving you so much as half a chance, Lycius. You'd have done the same were our positions changed."

He growled. "And were our positions swapped, I'd have not wasted my time talking!"

The sudden blast of shadow energy sent her flying back, a scream of pain escaping as she felt the burn deep within her body. It passed quickly, but lasted long enough for Lycius to stand and begin his onslaught with renewed vigor. Crawling back, it was all she could do to again simply ward or deflect the spells directed at her, and a fear settled in that by the time this battle ended, she could very well be dead.

The barrier shattered and Xodius charged headlong at Wrayne, his body becoming a blur of shadow and glinting metal as he slammed into the Drek'kan warlock. The two tumbled together, leaving a trail of blood as claw and teeth found flesh. When Xodius stood, Wrayne was left struggling to get to his feet, his shoulder and side ripped open from the lethal assault. He kept his ground, surprisingly enough, and Xodius slowly began to circle, searching for the opening that would allow him to deliver the final, decisive blow in the battle.

He never had the chance. Wrayne recovered quickly and delivered a powerful blast of fire, the wave of heat exploding violently outward from where he stood and scorching the floor and ceiling around him black. Xodius was thrown violently against a wall as the smell of ash wafted throughout the room. Another blast of shadow and his mind clouded over, dazed and unsteady yet again. Outwardly, Xodius cursed at the inconvenience, inwardly he could only praise Wrayne for lasting as long as he was.

Flyre was losing, and she knew it. Lycius had wards to defend against the fire spells she threw at him, and the ice merely slowed him down, but was never able to turn the tide of the battle in her favor. His injury was beginning to slow him down, but the ferocity of his onslaught was too much for her to handle at times, and the resulting wounds were starting to take a heavy toll.

She looked up watched as he began to trace a sigil into the air, summoning up a wave of fire that streaked towards her. She countered with a quick ward of her own, and then conjured a spell that was lingering in the back of her mind. Something taught to her once, but dropped in favor of the sheer power fire had offered. Perhaps it was something that had been lost when her mind was still held captive, slowly resurfaced since Xodius had done his work within her psyche, but now she had to simply wonder how she could have forgotten such a simple, effective conjuration.

She whispered the words and shifted the arcane energy around her. Rather than using it to draw up fire or form ice, the energy was released in its raw state, expanding outwards in a wave that caused the floor to buckle, the walls to crater, and Lycius to fall back, his spell interrupted. She wasted no time, unleashing a blast of fire that burned the warlock's robes to embers, left him screaming and writhing in pain. Again, the arcane energy danced on her fingers, and again she unleashed it, the power flitting like lancelets, missiles, that dug into and cut through the flesh of her fallen adversary.

Wrayne was panting from exertion as he watched Xodius shake himself free of the daze once more. Again he tried to conjure up the barrier that had worked so well, but the demon beat him and charged headlong, tackling him forcefully. He tumbled to the ground and rolled, caught amidst a tangle of wings and claws as he tried to keep the demon's teeth from finding his throat.

The two grappled on the chamber floor, the smells of blood and sulfur thick in the air as their injuries seeped. It was Wrayne who finally came out on top, delivering a hard punch to Xodius' snout that left the creature wheezing, sprawled on the ground. The warlock pushed himself to his feet and called up a quick spell to use as a defense, but found himself not needing it. Xodius remained on the ground, his breathing a slow, erratic cough. It took him a while, but he finally realized that the cough was, in fact, the creature laughing.

_Hold, young warlock…there is no need to continue this battle._

Wrayne smiled and let himself drop to a knee. Xodius was a wreck, wounds from being battered by spells releasing sulfurous clouds into the chamber. Of course, he was no better. His shoulder, right arm, his left side, his chest, all marred by claw and teeth, blood soaking into the fabric of his robes. He pressed the palm of his hand to the most severe and laughed softly.

"Well, it would seem, then, that both ends of our bargain have been met."

_Indeed it would._ Xodius pushed himself to his feet and glanced towards the stairwell as Flyre stumbled her way down. He winced. The mage was a walking, living, breathing corpse. Lycius had been far from kind in his battle against her.

Seeing her condition, Wrayne staggered to his feet and made his way over to help her, offering a shoulder to lean against.

_Flyre, you need to cast one more spell before we are free of this mess._

She nodded, wincing as she straightened up and traced the sigils to call up her portal. As the arcane energy twisted and twirled in front of her, the portal began to take shape, showing the forested area she had sent the others to safety earlier. Once it was stable and complete, the three stepped through, letting it close behind them.

They were finally free of M'alketh.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VII

Edward watched in passive fascination as three of Perrin's warships roared. Tongues of flame erupted from portholes along their flanks, momentarily lighting up the night. The projectiles unleashed whistled, unseen, overhead, their trajectory betrayed only by the pummeled tree line that lay in splinters a few hundred meters beyond Northshore's city limit. It was an impressive sight, and a terrible display of force. Part of him wondered if Xodius knew the full destructive capability at Northshore's disposal when he had predicted the city would fall, though as the ships bells tolled the eighth hour of night, the pressing, dark, foreboding sensation that had been creeping in all day pushed those hopes to the back of his mind.

The ships' batteries ceased fire, they had found their marks. Voices shouted out across the water as sails were secured to their masts, anchors cast to keep the ships in their ideal place for the initial onslaught. He had not heard word from Xodius on the advancing Drek'kan, but something in his bones said it would happen soon.

It would be a night to remember, for those who lived through it.

Turning his gaze away from the ships in the harbor, he made his way down the cobblestone road that led towards Northshore's coastal fortress, Greymane had wished to speak to all of them at the dinner due to be served half-past the hour. It would be a night spent going over details, making sure men and ships were positioned in the proper place before the onslaught began. Tomorrow would see the start of the citizen populace evacuating aboard the commercial and cargo ships that dwelled within the harbor, escorted by a handful of Perrin's warships for added security.

Footsteps echoed hollow in the empty hall as he moved towards the dining hall. One of the royal staff was there, waiting patiently to open the door and let him through. Inside, it was a somber affair. Unlike most dinners, there was no casual milling about as guests made small talk with others who resided within their political circles, there was absolute silence. Food and drink went untouched as those seated around the table contemplated their role in the events to come. Greymane was seated at the head of the table, dressed in black felt with a simple vest over his shirt. Perrin, just to his right, was wearing his traditional uniform, in his days there Edward was hard pressed to think of a time he saw the Admiral not dressed in his naval regalia. Talbot, seated to Greymane's left, was dressed in a simple forest green tunic with tan breeches, undoubtedly what he intended to wear beneath his armor once the fight began.

Edward took his seat and took in the spread of untouched food set on the table. Thin sliced ham, breads and cheeses, some wine. Another time, in another place, perhaps it would have been mouthwatering, now it simply seemed like a meager last supper.

Greymane broke the silence once Edward was settled. "The plans set forth remain unchanged. The ships will provide ranged support to help hammer M'alketh's forces back while we keep them at bay once they move close to our city defenses. Northshore was never meant to be a fighting position, the fort we sit in here and now will be the place we stand, coupled with garrisons that will ensure safe passage for General Talbot's troops once the withdraw is sounded. I expect only those still able to fight to stay behind, of the ones selected. I will not leave a man wounded to occupy space if he cannot bear arms, no matter his reason for staying. I would rather him be treated for another battle, should the need arise."

Talbot nodded somberly as he took a long sip of his wine, staring at the dark red liquid swirling in its goblet briefly before swallowing. "I had more volunteers than I had expected. Those with wives or no children to carry on their names were instructed to fall back with the rest. I've more than enough to ensure a full, secure escape by everyone once night falls."

"All of my ships are ready," Perrin let out a slow, deep breath as he spoke. "The _Dauntless_, _Intrepid_, and _Wasp_ will provide support with their batteries for as long as is needed. All three crews and their captains have volunteered to remain behind to assist as needed once the ships carrying the bulk of our forces set sail. We have more than enough capacity to carry our full fighting force and offer protection without those three. Moreover, should Talbot's men either succeed or find themselves in a position to pull back to the shoreline. That avenue of escape is open, if needed."

"The gesture is appreciated, but I will not have you risk three of your best gunships on our behalf, Admiral."

Perrin gave Talbot a steady look. "It is not up to you to deny, Sean." He smiled faintly. "I will not see your men isolated without my at least lending a hand. My ships' captains want their share of the glory in the tale that will be spun upon this war's close."

The two shared a forced chuckle as Greymane nodded to them both, his eyes turning to Edward. The knight from Ashland shuffled uneasy in his seat as he looked between the three men, clearing his throat softly before speaking up. "General, as Lord Greymane said when I first arrived, I am a man without a king and kingdom. My forces are scattered and lost, and my sword has no one to serve. It would be an honor, Sir, if you would allow me to remain here to fight alongside your men when the time comes for their final stand."

Greymane nodded slowly. "I did indeed say as much, Edward, and I see no reason why I should speak against this wish other than the simple fact that you are our link with this spy embedded with Dra'keth's forces. I do not know if we want to sacrifice such an asset so early in this war."

Edward bit his tongue. It was a small detail even he knew he couldn't escape, or fight against. He nodded his simple agreement to the observation and settled back in his seat. "I understand. That much was an oversight on my behalf."

"I understand your pains, Edward." Greymane leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on the table. "We have all lost our kings, and our kingdoms are in dire need of defense. Our messengers are already on the move and the surrounding kingdoms are responding. Mystal sent a messenger pigeon earlier this morning that said a massive war effort was taking place, with several armies responding and rallying within their borders. Scouts report a strong movement towards Killjaren. Our forces will add to theirs in an effort to establish a strong line, to deter the forces of M'alketh from moving any further south. We will need all the help we can get, and I assure you I will have messengers moving along the lines to search out any survivors from Ashland. They will need a leader to rally behind once they are found."

The logic was sound, he could not complain to that much. His men would, if found, need someone to lead them. He took a sip of his wine and found his thoughts lingering on the wellbeing of his brother. "Hopefully we find some."

Silence fell about the table again and the four picked at the food before them, their minds playing through various thoughts left unspoken. After a few long moments passed, it was again Greymane who spoke.

"Tomorrow morning, I will have the bells toll the signal for all of our citizens here to evacuate. Admiral, I expect your ships to be ready to accept the floods of people, and General I can only hope that your men will be able to keep order and discipline in the streets. The last thing we need is chaos and panic. The message has gone out for everyone to prepare, so I do not see a reason why anyone should be unprepared for this."

"Of course, M'lord. I've already instructed the ships to be standing by with rosters to record everyone who boards. A rotation for the piers has been drafted, every ship knows its place and where to be once the time comes." Perrin took a small bite of ham and swallowed. "Things will run smooth on our end, I assure you of that much."

Greymane nodded and turned his gaze to Talbot, taking a sip of wine before speaking further. "General, are you certain you have everything you need to carry out your side of things? I can have a workforce tasked to assist you."

Greymane shook his head. "The route for our withdraw has been established and my men are busy setting up the garrisons that will see us safely from fort to pier for the retreat. Some of our more ambitious few are setting up some nasty surprises for the advancing enemy. We do not plan on seeing light of day once the majority of my men fall back, but we will indeed give them one hell of a fight."

Greymane nodded and stood, the rest standing with him. "Then, gentlemen, there is only one thing left to do." He raised his goblet and passed a somber look about the table. "To the future of mankind, may we find daylight at the end of this road, and may our enemy know the pain of defeat."

They drank, returning to their seats afterwards to continue their meal in silence.

Daybreak saw bells sounding three sharp tolls in succession, a pause, and three more. The pattern repeated and echoed through the streets. Shopkeepers and homeowners alike were busy putting boards over doors and windows in last minute preparations for their departure, gathering up small satchels of items either of necessity or too treasured to part with. The streets were calm, but tension hung heavy in the air. Everyone knew, either by rumor or unofficial word, why the evacuation was taking place.

Guardsmen and militia hugged loved ones, offering final parting kisses in case they never set eyes upon each other again, words of wisdom passed to children with instructions for the eldest to take care of the family. There was no shortage of tears. Scouts, the few which survived, had reported back that the massive army was a day out at best, moving quickly to cover ground. By daybreak, battle would be raging throughout the surrounding woodlands and streets of Northshore.

Edward heard the noise from the streets below. He had watched for near an hour before retreating back to the room given to him by Greymane. Now, he was donning the polished armor that bore Ashland's crest, watching in a full-sized looking glass as the royal staff member tightened the leather buckles and straps to secure the pieces in place. The final touch was his sword, still smelling of the blacksmith's sharpening stone it had seen the night before. He dismissed the staff member once dressed, who bowed before scurrying off to join in the evacuation.

_And so it begins._

He almost jumped from the sudden intrusion into his own mind, the voice loud and clear as it spoke to him. He nodded, even though the gesture was useless, and moved towards a chair to take a seat.

_Your newfound allies will put up a spectacular fight. Dra'keth's minions do not know what awaits them at Northshore._

"Men will die, Northshore will fall."

_Not in vain, Edward. I have faith that General Talbot will see to it the Drek'kan know pain before Northshore is fully taken._

"Perhaps." He gave his reflection a doubtful look. "We will just have to see. So, what brings you to me at this hour? I had expected you to visit me in my sleep, not here in the morning hours."

_I had to take some time to recover from something. As it is, I am now close enough to where you sit that I can find your mind and converse freely, even during the hectic hours of day. I am rather pleased with this._

He straightened up in his seat, eyes drifting towards the window as he half expected to see the creature perched there and watching him. A soft chuckle drifted through his mind.

_No, I am not there. Not yet, at any rate. Calm yourself, Knight. I am travelling, not alone, I have six others with me who are my allies. We are, however, behind the enemy advance. Our mage was unable to offer a portal directly to Northshore. By the time her energy recovers enough to offer one, we could be standing within the city limits from walking, so that is what we have opted to do._

"You are coming here?" Edward stood and made his way towards the window, leaning against the pane and watching the wood line critically. "You are certain that is not a mistake?"

_My friends are anxious to offer their assistance, and knowledge. I guarantee that they will be valuable allies in the war._

"Are they creatures like yourself?"

_Heavens no. In some regards, perhaps. We are all free of the bonds that tied us to the Dragonlord's will. They are the first six Drek'kan that the late Lycius summoned into existence._

He shuddered at the thought of Drek'kan mingling amidst the men who were preparing to take a stand against the oncoming armies. "You trust them?"

_Of course I do! They are the reason I am free of Lycius' cruel chains, just as I am the reason they are free of Dra'keth's. Unlike the masses that came after their creation, they were created with their own independent minds and thoughts, free will as it were. The ones you will see fighting against your allies will be drones, each controlled by the Dragonlord's mind as one might pawns._

"So, you are free, then." He recalled the remark about the 'late Lycius' and furrowed his brow. "Lycius is dead?"

_By the grace of all things right in this world, yes. Lycius is no longer amongst your enemies. He is food for worms, if they see fit to feast on his carcass._

"How long will it take you to reach our position here?"

_Who can say for certain? At the moment our advance is hindered by the forces which stand between us and Northshore. I am working with the group I travel with to find a way around them, however such a route would undoubtedly see us arrive in the midst of battle. You and I both know such a thing can be rather dangerous for all parties involved._

"Especially if Greymane and the forces here do not know what it is they are looking at."

_Precisely._

Edward bit his lip in thought as he regarded a wall in his room absently. "This is somewhat of a challenge, then. I could let Greymane and the others know of your arrival, but with the evacuation of the city taking place it could be difficult to ensure the message gets passed to all who need to know."

_Then, we shall simply need to be clandestine in our approach. Can you find a way for us to cross paths without a large number of personnel having to be told of our arrival?_

He looked back out through the window at the dark silhouettes anchored in the harbor, their guns waiting to unleash hell on the advancing threat. "I do believe there is a way. I'll need to find Admiral Perrin. Would you be able to reach one of the warships if it were anchored out of the way, somewhere accessible to you and your friends?"

_We could, yes. If the battle rages on and all minds are focused elsewhere, it would be very possible for the seven of us to slip through undetected. I would recommend having a smaller vessel, perhaps a johnboat, waiting to take us where we need to go. Draw as little enemy and friendly attention as possible._

Edward began to move towards the door to find Greymane but hesitated, his hand resting on the handle as he furrowed his brow. "Could I ask you a question?"

_By all means._

"How is it you can hear me speak?"

There was silence for a few moments followed by a faint chuckle. _Are you speaking? I cannot hear you, if that is the case. I simply am made aware of your conscious thoughts, the words put together to form statements. After all, if you speak it, you have thought it either simultaneously, or shortly before, have you not?_

He smirked to himself and opened the door, making his way downstairs. It only took a few moments to cover the distance between the guest room that he had been given and the dining room, where Greymane was hovering over a few scattered charts and maps of the surrounding area. Models were in place of the various ships, showing their position in the harbor. Glancing up, the nobleman offered Edward a faint nod in greeting.

"How are your preparations for the upcoming fight, Edward?"

As the Knight drew closer, he could see the lines of worry that etched across Greymane's face. "I am doing well, M'lord."

"Good. Our scouts report that we may be seeing battle before the last citizen even boards a vessel. The Dragonlord certainly saw fit to make an army that was fast on foot."

Edward made his way over to the table and took in the charts in detail. As he did, he heard a familiar voice whisper softly into his mind. "Daybreak tomorrow, they will assault here." He tapped where the fortress was located on the map. "I've heard from Xodius, not too long ago, as a matter of fact."

"They are bold to attack our fortress head on…but that is also disturbing news." Greymane sighed and settled into one of the seats that surrounded the dining table. "How is your informant doing?"

_Fantastic!_ Edward chuckled at the word that flashed through his mind. "He has no complaints. However, I need to request a favor."

Greymane shook his head. "I already told you that you will be pulling back with our forces. That is not up for debate."

"Nor am I debating it. I need a skiff, something small and swift, to be standing by." Edward glanced at the map again and, as prompted, pointed to a small inlet well clear of the planned funnel Talbot's troops intended to take the fight. "I need it here. Once there, it will stand by with myself, anyone needed to pilot it, and we are going to wait for seven passengers."

"Seven? What on earth are you planning, Edward?" The nobleman glanced at the requested spot curiously. "I see no need to have any ship, no matter its size, stationed there. Who are you planning on picking up?"

"Why," Edward smirked, "we are picking up my spy."

Greymane's eyes went wide as he digested the news. "He's here?"

Edward shook his head, pointing again to the map. "He's here, with six other allies, moving just behind the enemy advance. Once the battle begins, the assault is going to focus here, on the fort. Xodius plans to move his party around to circumvent the assault and meet up with our forces here," he tapped the inlet again, "if we are able."

"This is not entirely good news. Granted, any ally returned safe to our lines is good, however I take it this means his position has been compromised?"

_It is complicated._ "It is complicated, I'm afraid," Edward said, mirroring the voice speaking in his mind. "You will have to get all of the details from him directly."

There was a moment of pause while Greymane regarded the map in front of him. It was difficult for Edward to tell for certain, but it almost seemed as though the nobleman was disappointed at the news. Edward, on the other hand, could not have been more pleased. It was another ally. One which, even though no longer embedded with the enemy, carried knowledge about them derived directly from the Dragonlord's former second in command.

"I see no reason why we cannot offer our services to get your informant to safety. I'm going to move you from your spot in the defensive, however. If Xodius and his allies are coming, I want you there to meet them. The _Imperial_ will be the warship that takes them on board, it is one of the vessels escorting one of our freighters later this afternoon, but there is another ship that can act in its stead. You will have the privacy and seclusion you need to ensure no unintentional harm befalls your friends."

_Splendid._

"Thank you for your assistance. Shall I be the one to inform Admiral Perrin?"

Greymane shook his head, standing and rolling the chart which detailed the harbor. "No, go rest. I will pass word along regarding the _Imperial_'s reassignment. When I return, I'll send you to meet her crew, board, and once there you will detail what it is they can expect."

_Wonderful news. I will be certain to share the details with the others travelling with me._

Edward departed the dining room, going back upstairs to where his guest room awaited him. Once the door was closed and latched behind him, he settled into a chair and let out a slow sigh. "So, what happens from here?"

_From here, we work towards unraveling Dra'keth's forces in the one way he does not expect it to happen._

"And you believe there is such a way to do this?"

_I have my theories, ones which my companions can assist in detailing. We have been discussing quite a few things, as a matter of fact. You would be shocked to learn just how many subjects can be covered even while attempting to keep out of sight._

"I don't believe Greymane trusts you fully. I would not put it past him to have the crew of this ship put your friends in chains upon their arrival until their allegiance is tested."

_They will do no such thing, Knight. The seven of us risked our very lives to assist one another in escaping M'alketh. To question them is to question me, and I will not stand for such a thing. They will see things my way, or we will all take our leave and relocate elsewhere to wait out this war._

"You know this, I know this, but the others will take some convincing."

_Trust does grow stronger, or weaker, with time. I believe there will be enough of a base established upon our arrival that no questions will be asked. The Dragonlord knows we have departed, he is going to make an effort to retrieve our bodies. I hope the crew of this ship is ready for conflict should it arise._

Edward furrowed his brow as he listened carefully. Something about the voice he was hearing was uncomfortable, almost panicked. "Are you in danger now?"

_Perhaps. I can smell a scout nearby, but I do not believe he has spotted our trail. I am trying to search him out as we speak. I am going to break contact here, so that I can focus on other things, this scout being one of them. Barring terrible misfortune, we will meet you at the prescribed location._

"Of course. Do be careful."

_Your concern is noted. I will see you at the shoreline. In the mean time, I believe you should wake up. Greymane is approaching your door._

Edward startled himself awake, still seated in the chair he had settled in earlier. A glance outside at the sun's position told him a few hours had passed since he had left to talk with Greymane initially. The knight frowned, standing as there was a knock at the door.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter VIII

_So, I have found you at last. I was beginning to worry that you were lost for good, but just as I was about to give up hope, here you are. I know you are in pain, I know that your body wishes to remain in darkness, but you have had your time to sleep. It has been several days now, and the time has come for you to play your part. I need you to wake up._

The world was black, interrupted only by faint patches of indistinguishable reds. In the distance, there was a soft, rhythmic beat, like drums. Slow, steady, but distant. The sound began to fade as the red melted away.

_Wake up._

Pain. Eyes opened briefly only to be assaulted by brightness. Shutting his eyes to the offending light, he heard the soft beats again, now aware it was not some distant drum but rather his own heart. Water trickled somewhere nearby, close enough that he could feel it tugging at his feet.

He tried once more to settle back into the blissful sleep he had been so crudely awoken from.

_Wake up!_

Wraith sat up, eyes opened and flooded again with blinding light. Turning, he leaned to one side as blood and bile filled his mouth, vomiting the fluids into the mud of the riverbank. Unable to escape the reality he found himself in, the assassin settled onto his back and took in his surroundings. Dense woodlands, with a river flowing near his feet. Beyond that, he knew nothing of his whereabouts.

His body was aching, though mud from where he had been cast ashore by the river was doing a fine job at keeping the wounds inflicted that night in Ashland from taking their full toll on him. Arrows, snapped by means unknown to him, were still imbedded where they had scored their blows, and the irregular indentation in his gut only reminded him of the axe that had dropped him from the window.

He remembered Xodius' face, teeth crushing the human soldier's throat. It was all darkness after that.

_I am just as surprised as you. I am yet again amazed at how resilient your kind is. Lycius was no fool in making you._

Wraith closed his eyes and was again overwhelmed by a wave of pain. He was alive, but even he knew that given more time, his injuries would prove fatal. Checking the wounds one last time, he rolled onto his feet, using one of the nearby trees to support the effort.

_I need you to listen to me if you wish to live through this ordeal. You face south. Keep in this direction, you will find a small camp. There are some druids there, elves, and they will assist you when they see your injuries. Be polite, however. They are unaware of what you are, but will not trust you fully._

Taking a few steps forward proved to be the hardest task he had ever undertaken. Relying more on the surrounding woods than his own feet to remain standing, each forward movement was rocked by pain that clouded his vision, turned the vivid greens of the foliage into black and grey, tinged with red. His mind told him countless times over that he should be, by all rights, dead.

_But you are not dead, you are alive. That is all that matters right now._

He felt dead.

_One foot in front of the other._

For a moment, he was unsure if the voices urging him on were coming from somewhere deep in the back of his mind, or if the voice was coming from an outside influence. Too tired to debate, he settled for the latter.

_Just think of me as a guardian. I'll see you there safely, so long as you keep pushing forward._

The drumbeat of his heart started to fade and blend in with the sounds of the woods around him. He vaguely became aware of birds singing up above, insects buzzing nearby, and the loud crack of twigs and underbrush beneath his feet.

_I've said it once, I will say it again. Your kind never cease to amaze me. Such resilience I've not seen in a creature for ages. You are going to be just fine._

A familiar scent carried on the breeze caught his attention. Wood burning. His senses starting to clear further, he pushed onwards towards the source. It was only a short journey, or so it seemed. Glancing back at the uneven path he had traced, he realized that the sounds of the flowing river were long gone. Grunting, he leaned back against a tree and let his eyes return to the road ahead.

The glinting tip of a silver-bladed short sword awaited him, its owner's violet eyes shining fiercely as they regarded the intruder. Wraith took a shocked step back, startled that he had not heard, nor had been warned, of the sentry's approach. The sudden reaction was too abrupt for his damaged body, and he doubled over, vomiting blood onto the forest hearth.

His vision blurred, voices and footsteps echoed on the fringes of his own consciousness, and darkness took him once more as he sprawled at the elf druid's feet.

_You made it, that is all that matters. Now, relax and rest easy. I will contact you again in the near future as time permits itself._

Wraith startled awake, his mind still ablaze with images from a fading nightmare. Faces covered in blood, screaming in pain. He willed the haunting visions away and sat up. There was a noticeable lack of pain, causing him to look down at where his wounds once were. Faint scars remained, but they were otherwise fully healed. His attention turned to his surroundings next.

The room was a simple affair, more rather a hut made of dried mud with a roof of interwoven branches and leaves. A few baskets housing the meager belongings of the hut's owner were stacked neatly to one side, they smelled of dried fruits. Animal pelts were hanging nearby, stretched taught and painted to offer some semblance of decoration.

His bed was a rug which offered some comfort from the bare dirt floor. The rug, with him atop it, took up almost half of the room, leaving space enough for one other occupant. He was, however, alone.

Standing, Wraith gave himself a moment to remember his balance before pushing the leather flap that separated him from the outside world aside. What awaited him was a simple, rustic village made up entirely of almost identical huts, each bearing some painting or other marking to distinguish it from the next. One of the huts, larger than the rest, sat off to one side of the village, it was also where it seemed all of the occupants of the village were clustered.

One of the villagers spied him emerge and darted into the crowd. Almost immediately, all activity around the single hut broke apart and the villagers scattered to carry on their normal chores, or so Wraith assumed. As they did, a man, again similar in appearance albeit with a face creased by age, stepped out and started moving across the open pavilion to where Wraith stood, eyes almost as grey as the hair that topped his head frowning as they looked the stranger in their midst over. Wraith straightened up, groaning as his back ached in protest, and started to offer a word of thanks.

The old elf cut him short with an abruptly raised hand. "Save your thanks, creature. It is not needed, nor even desired. My fellow druids brought you here, to me, so that questions and concerns could be both answered and addressed properly."

Wraith stood his ground, slightly uneasy at the cold way the old elf was looking him over, circling like a beast might prey. "I am Wraith."

"Your name is of little importance to me," the elf snapped, bringing his eyes up to bear on the creature in front of him. After a moment's silence, he finally muttered, "You may, however, call me B'aelthlin."

Wraith growled. The hostile treatment was beginning to agitate him, and he felt little worry in expressing that fact. "B'aelthlin, I should mention now that I do not enjoy this harsh treatment. I see little sense in having my wounds treated so effectively only to then be regarded as a murderer or thief might."

B'aelthlin nodded curtly. "You speak sincerely, however I assure you my expressed sentiment at your arrival here is anything but unjust. Perhaps I should offer a full introduction. I am B'aelthlin, the Seer for my tribe. For many years I have been plagued by visions which detail the death of many of my people, a death brought about by a cold beast of black." He growled. "After setting eyes on you, Wraith, I know that you are that creature."

Wraith offered the elf a skeptical look, which was soon followed by outright impatience for the situation as a whole. "So, you bring me here to heal me, only to tell me that I am to kill your people? Do you take me for an ungrateful buffoon? I've had no reason to destroy you or your kind, and to accuse me of such is nothing short of insulting."

"You do not mean us harm. I can see as much in your eyes when you speak, stranger." The elf sighed and shook his head. "My visions have never been wrong, however. I fear that, in time, if allowed to do so, I will watch a large number of my kin here die at your hands, or as a direct result of your actions."

_Look in his eyes. There is a fear rooted there, his concern is genuine. He is lying, however, to protect a greater truth._

Wraith fought the instinct to turn and look over his shoulder for the source of the voice, knowing full well it would not be anything physically near him. It was true, though. Watching the mannerisms, the way the old elf remained hunched, a good arms length away, it was all very similar to the way someone stood when trying to shield or protect something within his grasp.

"I had my tribesmen bring you here to heal you as a courtesy. It is not our way to leave someone to die for no reason whatsoever. Now that you are here, however, I will inform you that you will be confined to this hut between the sunset and sunrise, and to the pavilion during daylight hours. Meals will be provided in the hut at the proper times of day. You will also be escorted should you ever have to bathe or use any other sort of facility not provided in the hut."

Wraith narrowed his eyes, growling softly and not bothering to keep the sound inaudible. "Until when?"

"Until such a time as I can decide how best to handle this situation. Visions are warnings, they can either be allowed to happen unheeded, or the warning can be used to prevent the outcome entirely."

_Do not press the issue, not at this time. Something is amiss._

"Very well then, Baeltlin. I shall remain your guest, for now, but know that I do so under protest."

The elf nodded and motioned for one of the younger men in the village to come closer. "You, stand guard outside his door. If he needs anything, see to it that he is either escorted, or someone is fetched. He is not to be left alone."

B'aelthlin turned to once more regard Wraith, the Drek'kan meeting him with a cold, almost threatening gaze. With a snort, the old elf turned to depart. Wraith gave the newly appointed guard a calculating look and, not impressed, shrugged and stepped back into his newly assigned home to converse with the voice lingering in his mind.

_I told you to not protest because something is not right in this place._

Wraith took his time adjusting a few of the baskets to form a semi-decent place to sit, his back leaning against the clay wall of the hut itself as he drew up questions in his head. The set of dreadfully pointed ears outside were oblivious, of course, hearing only silence from within, but the one in his mind could hear as though it was all spoken aloud.

_You did not notice? When you can, look again. There is something missing in this village, something that took a moment or two for me to realize, but now is painfully obvious. Think back to when you first set eyes on the elves outside._

The image of them all gathered around the elder elf's hut flashed back into his mind in vivid detail. He looked over it again, noting the soft features that they all carried, the same pointed ears, the same blonde hair, the same violet eyes. The men all could have easily passed for brothers, twins even. The weapons they all carried were identical as well, crafted to be so similar even the patterns etched into the wooden handles were the same.

_Look at them all carefully. What is missing._

All men.

_Exactly. Where are the women? I doubt even druids have found a way to eliminate the need for females. I spent some time reading their heads, but some magic prevents me from digging too far in without being noticed. I do not want them to blame you for anything suspicious. The elder is hiding something, and all of them are so very like-minded it is unnatural._

Wraith growled softly. It had been so obvious, he almost kicked himself for not noticing it earlier. Of course, he had seen a society prosper without the potential need for an opposite sex, though that had been his own, and that was simply due to the fact that his kind were creatures brought to life through a complex amalgamation of arcane sciences and basic alchemy which he could never truely hope to comprehend. Within their ranks, only Myriad and Flyre were created to test the possibility of proper breeding; a theory which had never been put to the test. Dra'keth was far too threatened by it.

Idly, he found his thoughts trailing back to his brothers and sisters, wondering what had become of them all. The last he remembered seeing was a parting glimpse of Cyrius as they parted ways in Ashland's central keep. Of Xodius offering him a chance to join them all in freedom.

_They are no longer in the service of Dra'keth's army. Lycius was slain, the bonds that tied them to Dra'keth's will broken, and they escaped through Flyre's use of the arcane to open a portal._

His spirits lifted slightly. The little demon had done it, then. They were all free to do what they wished with their own lives. A smile crept across his face slowly as he looked the hut over. There was no way he was going to miss out on sharing a free moment with his bretheren, not due to some strange elf holding him captive until a fitting death could be decided.

_I do not think it wise to simply leave. You and I both know something is not right in this village. If you leave, the possibility of this secret falling into the wrong hads is too great. I need you to stay, use your skills to find out what this druid is hiding._

Wraith nodded slowly. Of course, the potential that anything groundbreaking, much less capable of slanting a war steeply in the favor of any given side, concealed here within this village was remote. Remote, not impossible.

Not to mention, he was a trained assassin. He worked best on his own, and when the need to remain covert and patient was paramount.

_Then I can count on you?_

He sighed softly. It almost felt as though he had been backed into a corner, a case of simply being in the wrong place at the right time. Absently, a hand strayed to where, not too long ago, a jagged tear had run across his chest.

_Good. Rest. Nightfall will come soon, then you will be able to perform under the cover of darkness, away from prying eyes._

Sleep, Wraith conceded to himself, was going to be hard to find. He still had too much crossing through his mind to concentrate fully on any single train of thought. The druids were up to something, somehow the elder was convinced he was nothing more than a harbinger of death.

Somewhere between thinking about how his brothers and sisters were doing elsewhere in the world and how he was going to get himself free of this particular mess, sleep found him. As he slept, darkness seemed to be creeping along the horizon, like a stormcloud that no longer floated in the sky above, but rather rested on the ground, consuming forests and villages as it rumbled along. Lightning flickered and lanced outward, destroying anything touched while behind it was a wake of skeletons and charred flesh.

Turning to face away from the destruction, seeking to flee for his own life, Wraith spied the old druid elf, standing tall atop the flattened trunk of a felled tree. Wiry hands were gripped tight about a gnarled staff as he chanted into the air, calling the forces of nature down to smite enemies both seen and hidden from view, known and unknown.

There was a madness there, crazed lunacy, reflected all too clearly in the druid's eyes, which had gone from their soft grey to milky white from the strange trance. Very slowly, those eyes turned and settled on Wraith, who found himself wanting to run but with feet unwilling to cooperate. The elf's lips curled upward in a cruel smirk and, with a deft wave of his hand, fire was called down to incinerate the assassin where he stood.

Even before his eyes had a chance to focus after waking from the nightmare, Wraith knew he was still in the hut. Part of him breathed a sigh of relief as the vivid images slipped from his consciousness while the rest of him was only reminded of the fact he was being held prisoner.

Standing, he flickered a glance to the heavy cloth that acted as a door, noting with some degree of satisfaction that night had settled over the village outside. He could still smell the guards outside, and there was a tray of food that had long since gone cold sitting next to the wall. A brief glance at the insects which had claimed the meal was enough to discourage him from trying to eat, and he instead focused on slipping out of the hut unnoticed.

If there was one thing to be said about the druids, they were not accustomed to holding prisoners. Had they been, or at least held one competent prisoner in their past, they would have never picked a clay walled hut with branches lashed to a wood frame for a roof. Using a sturdy pair of baskets as a step, he worked to untie the cords which lashed the heavy fronds to the frame. A smaller basket was used to prop the makeshift hatch open while he, with a brief glance back at the door to make sure no one was watching, slipped out into the cool night air.

The village was quiet, not even the typical sound of insects disturbed that fact, and the overall effect it pressed was almost enough to give Wraith cause to turn and simply leave. More than once he almost did, but the nagging sensation that there was something that had to be found kept him on course. Tracking through the woodline that surrounded the village, he found a vantage point which allowed him to take a good look at the village itself.

The multitude of huts were dark, only two giving off light. One of those was the one belonging to himself, the two guards standing stone-faced outside, entirely unmoving. The second was the one he had seen the older druid emerge from earlier that day, the flicker of shadows inside telling that there was movement. Slowly, mindful not to disturb the unnatural quiet of the night, he moved from shadow to shadow drawing closer to what, he discovered, was a conversation in progress.

"...could offer him as sacrifice, use the temple to draw the life into ourselves."

The voice was recognizeable enough, belonging to B'aelthlin. What responded was a soft hiss and rattle of beads, a voice carried on the wind with the same murderous, sinister tone as such only his nightmares could match.

"We could, yes. I think allowing him near the stone is a mistake, though. Kill him, be done with it, do not risk what is not truely needed."

B'aelthlin snorted. "What kind of god are you that you fear this creature? It is true that we have seen his coming, what one potential outcome could be, but we do not know this to be a certainty."

"It is certain enough, fool of a druid. If he is allowed near the source, he could be in a position to destroy everything we have worked for up until now. Would you be willing to surrender this all on a whim, a grasp at whatever unknown power he carries with him? I can sense something unnatural about his being, I do not trust it. You should trust it even less and listen to my guidance."

Wraith shifted uneasily, there was something in that second voice, a malevolence he had only seen once before, carried by the Dragonlord residing in M'alketh. He shuddered uncontrolably and took a few steps back as the light inside the hut moved, the voices trailing towards the door.

B'aelthlin stepped out, his staff clutched tightly. Close behind, hovering just above the druid's shoulder, was a creature the likes of which he had never seen before. A mist, like a cloud, totally devoid of any true form drifted on the wind. It was black as night, almost disappearing in the darkness. The only thing that kept it visible in the night air was the terribly unnatural eyes, two spheres of glowing amber, simply floating amidst the haze.

_An elemental?_

Wraith startled, barely managing to catch himself before doing something that might give his position away. Still, a recognition of the voice from earlier put him a bit more at ease. He watched the druid, followed by the elemental, as they took a narrow path that snaked away from the village and into the forest.

_Follow them, find out where they are going._

He took up a silent chase. The two were conversing ahead of him though all he was able to pick up was a word here or there, nothing important. Attention was instead paid to the path ahead of him as efforts were made to keep from stepping on the stray twig or rock that might give his position away.

The path curved on for almost a mile before the forest opened up into a large clearing. What Wraith saw gave him a moment of pause as he took it all in. Rock pillars were littered everywhere, something easily discerned as an old temple long since left to fall into ruin settled in the middle of it all. Surrounding the fallen temple on four sides were the bases of statues, only one remained intact enough to identify. A cloaked figure, an arm missing a hand raised skyward. A brief glance at the stars overhead showed that the statues themselves were positioned to mark the cardinal directions.

Turning his gaze from the old structure, he watched B'aelthlin snake through the ruins, the elemental close behind. The druid paused long enough to shove the heavy wooden door to the ruined temple open and disappeared inside, leaving the door open behind him.

Wraith counted slowly from one hundred down to zero in his mind before darting across the open clearing up to the door, glancing in to make sure the entrance was clear before slipping inside. Inside, there was an open-air pavilion with what had once been a garden, only now it was a tangle of weeds and vines. Confusion etched his face as he looked around at the gardens, the druid and elemental where both nowhere to be seen.

He took his time, shifting into the nearby shadows to keep from being silhouetted by the doorway as he looked again at the gardens. There was nowhere the druid could have hidden, no other doorways leading further into the temple, or back outside. His ear caught the sound of running water, and after another long look produced no traces of the elemental or the druid, he made his way carefully towards the source.

Nestled in the center of the gardens was a simple fountain, its silvery water still flowing from an ornate dish settled atop a pedistal. The water cascaded down from the bowl and into a much larger pool which reflected the moonlight from the sky above. Curious, and partly for reasons unkown to him, he reached a tentative hand out to touch the water, amazed that such a thing had gone completely untouched by the weeds and vines that choked the gardens around it. The water was soft, cool, and when he withdrew his fingers, he found it to be an illusion.

He tested the unnatural find again, this time plunging his entire hand beneath the surface of the pool, watching as the ripples distorted the moon's reflection. He could feel it again, a cool current brushing along his scales, something very different from water, almost like air. When he withdrew his fist, he looked and, as before, his findings were true. Not a drop of water was left, he was totally dry.

Eyes narrowed, Wraith looked down into the water and forced himself to try and see below the surface, past the reflection of the water which had returned to almost perfect, barely even disturbed by the water pouring into it from the top of the fountain. Movement caught his eye and, without truely knowing what posessed him to do so, Wraith climbed atop the stone that framed the pool and, in what could best be described simply as a giant step of faith, plunged into the pool.

Only to find himself falling through empty air.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter IX

_Go, quickly. Their minds are distracted._

Led by Wrayne, Flyre and Dhark darted across the street to an empty storefront where Seiver, Cyrius, and Myriad were waiting. Xodius followed soon after, keeping a wary eye on the battle that had taken over Northshore. What could pass as rolling thunder echoed through the streets as metal balls of fire were lobbed from the harbor into the advancing enemy lines, though the damage was limited. Drek'kan mages were waiting to throw up shields, blocking the projectiles in brilliant explosions of sparks and arcane energy. Every now and then, one would break through the magical barrier, exacting a heavy toll, but it was clear that the counter-offensive being put forth by the ships would not hold back the flood for long.

Xodius returned his gaze to the path ahead. While the Dragonlord's army was distracted, focused on the men waiting in entrenched positions, the seven of them were still nestled within enemy lines. All it took was one scout, one pair of eyes, to turn and spot them, and it would all be over. He turned his head to look over the scene again.

_Go, now. Seiver, Wrayne, I want the both of you to accompany me._

The warlock paused mid-stride, his robes gathering about his feet as he turned to look back at Xodius. "Why?"

_The human line is faltering, they will not hold for long, and if that happens, the ship we are trying to reach will not have a chance to set sail and be destroyed._

The six stood in silence. Dhark, Cyrius, and Flyre kept a steady gaze on Xodius while Seiver slid his shield from his back, settling his arm through the leather straps. Myriad and Wrayne shared a look with one another, the priestess finally giving the warlock a faint nod before turning and starting down the road in silence.

_I am sorry it has to be this way, but that is the painful truth of the matter. If any are to live to see daybreak, then I will need what help I can get. Seiver and Wrayne will be sufficient to see the rest of you safe to the ships, and the ships safe out of port. I will personally see that we all cross paths soon._

Dhark nodded slowly as he looked at the breaking group. "We will be sure to await your return to us, all three of you." He motioned to the others. "Quit lingering, we'd best be on our way before we lose what advantage stands to be gained."

Xodius watched them all leave as Wrayne and Seiver fell in alongside him. Even while Dhark spoke, his gaze never left Myriad as she turned to leave ahead of the rest, trying to read through the turmoil of thoughts that were racing through her mind. Finally, he caught the few words hiding amidst the noise.

_I will keep him safe._

Even as he turned, Xodius could almost hear words of thanks whispered on the wind. He smiled, letting his eyes focus on the fortress being hammered by Dra'keth's forces. Fires were burning almost the entire length of the lower parapets while silhouettes could be seen locked in melee combat. Amidst it all, the ships offshore thundered loudly, pouring a dwindling supply of artillery fire into the advancing lines.

"The humans would be sorely disappointed to learn that their efforts are being shunted aside by magi."

Xodius shifted his head to regard Seiver for a moment. _They would indeed._

"So, my little friend, I trust you have a plan?"

_Can your shield stop a blade?_

The knight chuckled and raised the polished metal wall in a half-salute. "As well as it should."

_Good, listen carefully, because the survival of all three of us depends on it. Wrayne, you are about to learn what the true power of a warlock and his summon is, and Seiver is going to make sure no one bothers us while we work._

Stone was starting to give way under Talbot's fierce, frustrated grip as the General watched his forces get swept up by the onslaught.

Not swept, massacred.

At first, everything had gone well. The advancing lines were marked and devastated by waves of cannon fire from the ships. The men had cheered, watching from the parapets as their foe was swept away by iron boulders from their naval allies. That had all changed when the mages moved to the front lines, though. Barriers wrought of some unseen energy were thrown up to deflect the barrage, allowing the Drek'kan to advance on the fortress unscathed. The first group to arrive focused on tearing down the gates, then all hell broke loose.

Berserkers, as they had been described by one of the runners, stormed into the fortress, annihilating anything in their way with no regard to either their own safety, or those within their own ranks which fell to the defenders. The damage had been contained, but was terribly effective. The enemy was able to move through the fortress virtually unopposed. Talbot and his men were forced to fall back, drawing up new lines. The cost of the retreat was more than he cared to think, even still his own men were being murdered on the fortress parapets while he, at the final defensive line before the port, was forced to watch from his vantage point, unable to do anything.

"Sir,"

Talbot glanced towards the voice and smiled slightly, a forced gesture. "Yes, what news?"

"The ships are making preparations to get underway. The Admiral sends word that any who are able, or in need of medical care, can be moved to the last of the awaiting boats to be ferried."

Talbot sighed and looked back out at the fallen fortress. "Get the wounded gathered together, get them all to safety. The rest of us will continue to hold."

"Sir." The soldier departed, leaving Talbot alone to watch his dwindling defensive.

More fire began to erupt along the parapets, chunks of molten stone flying and leaving anything living that was touched writhing in agony. The magic users were begining their assault on the defenses, and if left unchecked, the destruction would be both swift and complete. Talbot narrowed his eyes, something inside him pushing the shadowy hints of despair to the side and replacing it with a resolute defiance that he knew would see him to the grave.

Just through the doorway, his personal guardsmen, eight of the ten who had volunteered for the fight, were waiting. One saw to strapping on the last pieces of armor before another offered his sword, unsheathed. Talbot took a moment to admire the blade. Used mainly for ceremony, the metal carried a mirror polish, but the edge was keen and deadly. It would finally see proper use after decades of pompous show.

"We're with you to the end, Sir."

Talbot's eyes flickered up to meet the looks of the others with him. They were good men, all of them, willing to give all they had no matter the consequences. The two missing from the group were both married; Talbot had denied their desires to join in the fight without hesitation.

"Good. I would expect nothing less from all of you." He burried the tip of his sword into the wooden floor, kneeling and resting his grip on the crosshilt, watching as the rest did the same, forming a circle.

"May God guide us all, be the eyes that watch our backs, and see us to victory."

"Amen," the others responded in unison.

Standing, he resettled his grip on the sword and strode to the door. "And may he give us all the strength to see these bastards back to the hell they came from."

There was a chorus of warcries from the men as they piled through the door to join in the fight with the last line of defenders remaining in the sea-side fortress of Northshore.

Seiver's blade and shield had both lost most of their polished shine, the metal coated in a healthy layer of blood and dirt as he bashed and hacked his way through the masses. It was unsettling in how easy the drive was, and while he wanted to credit those fighting alongside him, all three knew that there was more to the fight than could be seen. Beside him, Xodius was wreaking havoc as only a berserker could, the demon a blur of black with metal claws and teeth flashing as they tore into prey, leaving his victims either slain or maimed beyond recovery in his wake. It was brutally swift, and the Darkknight had to wonder if the creature was taking some sense of satisfaction in the killings. Wrayne, taking up the rear, was keeping up, pausing only long enough to channel a quick bolt of shadow or hellfire at an assailant, leaving them to writhe in pain, but entirely incapacitated.

Finally, they reached the spot Xodius had pointed out earlier. A wide observation point nestled in the middle of the walls. It provided two avenues of approach, easy enough to defend as needed, and a prime vantage point over the oncoming forces. Wrayne moved towards the center and closed his eyes in concentration, slowing and relaxing his breath.

_We all know what must be done. Seiver, keep us guarded._

Seiver smirked, raising his shield in a half-salute before he moved off to intercept a few approaching warriors. The sound of steel on steel soon rang strong in the area. Xodius let him go, turning his attention to the warlock and closing his eyes.

_Wrayne, listen to me carefully. I am going to give you a fair portion of my own strength. I want you to follow the current that flows from my mind to yours, channel everything through me and utter the words I tell you to. You will feel strange after this ends, but I need you to recover quickly. I will be vulnerable afterwards, I need you and Seiver to relocate us all to safety._

Wrayne nodded, or thought he did, and let his mind shut out the noise and distractions around him. Seiver would have to hold the line, he would not be able to refocus fast enough to defend himself if their position was overrun.

Suddenly, he could see the battlefield as a bird on the wing might, soaring high overhead. It was breathtaking to see the dark wave of Drek'kan batter the hopeless defenses Northshore had available. Humans were being slaughtered, a few putting up an admirable yet doomed effort to keep their assailants at bay. In the harbor, three ships tethered to anchors rocked as their cannon fired one last time. He couldn't quite understand how he knew that they were out of ammunition, but he knew. It was almost an instinctive voice in his mind telling him.

He turned his gaze to the parapet he was standing on. Seiver was busy holding warrior-class Drek'kan at bay. As one fell, another would replace it, giving the Knight little room to relax, but he was holding well. Wrayne knew Seiver's skill with a shield and blade was supurb, he had little doubt they would see day break over the horizon.

Xodius was standing off to one side, a spinning glyph glowing an eerie purple beneath his feet, but aside from the slow breaths that caused his ribs to swell, there was no other movement. Wrayne even saw himself, eyes closed almost in a trance, mouth moving silently as unknown words were muttered. Turning away from himself, Wrayne let his eyes settle on the span of land that separated the fortress from the treeline. Slowly, a dim circle made itself visible in his eyes, a massive glowing ring that encircled almost the entire span of the field.

_Khale domi et ghelrum, incindeus novus terranix extohl._

The words, though strange, flowed naturally as they were spoken. The ring's glow became more vibrant as glyphs appeared at its border, each forming a complex sigil that flared with a frighteningly unknown power.

_Lieshi extohl, destruem villiem novus._

The center of the ring burst into flames, a large sigil bearing a symbol Wrayne had only seen once, adorning the crest Dra'keth had claimed as his own. A mark of death. Around it, another ring appeared, this one bearing the elemental marks of earth, fire, wind, and water. Magic poured from them like a fountain, each sigil with its own stream that wound and entertwined with the others, reaching skyward until it appeared to touch the stars above. Wrayne was astonished, baffled as he watched the other Drek'kan below him race through the massive glyph, not knowing the powerful magic that was swelling beneath their feet. A few of the magic users, mostly warlocks, lingered back, hesitant.

The entire ring, sigils and all, exploded. A massive burning meteor crashed down from the sky above, cratering the field and sending bodies of the Dragonlord's army flying in all directions with the impact. Those closest to the crater were incinerated almost instantly from the wave of heat that radiated outwards. Wrayne watched, unable to look away, as a few of the Drek'kan recovered from their stunned state, staggering towards the crater to investigate this sudden inconvenience.

The meteor nestled in the center of the crater moved. Rock peeled away, crumbling, as fire kept the shards held together. Slowly, two arms, two legs, and a head with flaming eyes and a mouth took shape. The massive rock creature lifted itself up and bellowed a fearsome roar that sent those looking on scattering in all directions.

_The infernal._

Wrayne blinked away the tunnel vision that had taken him. The parapets and sounds of the battle surrounded him once more. To his side, Seiver had managed to leave a pile of corpses, narrowing the walkway and forcing the advancing Drek'kan to approach one at a time. Blood covered his silver scales; Wrayne had a hard time telling if it belonged to his brother, or to the pile of victims at his feet, or even both.

A taste, like burnt meat, lingered in his mouth and visions of the summoning ritual danced through his mind. He dismissed them, turning to find Xodius. The demon was collapsed where he had been standing earlier, a thick yellow smoke that smelled of sulphur poured from the corners of his mouth, billowing faintly with each ragged breath. For a moment, Wrayne thought Xodius was simply about to breathe fire, but then the demon spasmed, coughing more of the thick smoke as though it were blood. A black substance, like sap or a thick tar, splattered against the stone walkway as Xodius tried to struggle to his feet. Wrayne knelt to lend a hand.

_Let's not linger. The infernal will not hold forever, and the chaos created will only keep the enemy at bay briefly._ He took a step forward and collapsed again, hissing loudly. _Get to the boat, Edward will know you are allies._

"We can't leave you here," Wrayne growled, a soft hiss escaping as he looked back towards Seiver. "Can you use your shield as a litter to carry him?"

"I can drag it, yes." He looked the shield over before tossing his blade to Wrayne. "Mind our backs, I'll pull him."

Wrayne caught the blade, the weight of the steel awkward in his hand as he looked the keen edge over. He had used a sword once, in the earlier days of his training, but had quickly opted to keep a dagger tucked in his belt rather than the bulkier weapon. Still, the basics were simple to understand: pointed end towards enemy.

As Seiver rolled Xodius onto the shield and began to drag the makeshift sled, Wrayne took up a spot behind to ward off any attacks. The Drek'kan had focused almost entirely on the infernal, which was still wreaking havoc in the field below the parapets, each wild swing of its arms a haymaker that sent bodies flying and crashing into one another. A smaller group was assaulting a chokepoint in the fortress' parapets where several men had taken up what seemed to be one of the last remaining defensive positions still remaining. He watched until the last man, clad in elaborate armor denoting some higher position within the ranks, fell.

"Wrayne, keep up!"

Wrayne glanced over his shoulder to see Seiver was a good distance ahead, trying to negotiate the stairs leading to the streets below. He had to sprint to catch up, looking over his shoulder again. Something was bothering him, tugging at the back of his mind.

"You've noticed it too?" Seiver grunted as he slid the shield down the steps, wincing as metal scraped against stone. "It's almost as though they've forgotten about us."

Wrayne nodded slowly. "Aye. They don't fight like we were trained, either."

"The tactics are all wrong, and the coordination is too precise to be natural. Did you see the line of mages step up? It was as though they were all moving at once, in a near perfect formation to throw up shields against that creature you dropped on their heads."

Stopping mid-stride, Wrayne narrowed his eyes. "I missed that part, my focus was elsewhere."

"We'll have to ask our friend here what he thinks of it all. I'm certain he managed to see something we missed."

"Aye. Let's just get to that boat, first. I don't think I can focus on anything until we're safely away from this mess."

Seiver smirked and shifted his grip on the shield as he began dragging it down the road. "Shouldn't be too long. Help pull. The fortress has fallen, I don't think they'll be coming after us. Two rogue Drek'kan are an insignifigant threat, the ships in the harbor still making their escape are the most likely prey."

Wrayne nodded and passed the sword back to its owner, almost glad to be rid of the cumbersome weapon. It was just too uncomfortable for him; something he would never use, probably even if his own life depended on it.

"Tryst'n is dead."

Wraith furrowed his brow, giving his brother a curious look as they started to tug the shield down the road. "Who?"

"My student within the Order. He was one of the ones that tried to assault our position on the parapets."

"Oh." Wrayne glanced back towards the fortress. The infernal must have fallen because the walls were now swarming with Drek'kan. "I saw a few I knew fall, some other familiar faces. Most of these were strangers, though."

"That's another thing I noticed. Dra'keth must have been busy bolstering his forces. Admittedly, I didn't know everyone by name, but what I saw up there was far greater than what I thought we had back in M'alketh."

"Aye, it was."

Seiver smirked faintly. "You know what that means, of course."

"What?"

"The humans had better get their defensive organized, or this war will end a lot faster than they're ready for."

Wrayne fell silent as he thought over that single statement. It was, of course, true. What it also brought with it, though, was the realization that his brothers, Xodius, and even himself, would be far more involved than he had originally hoped.

"Don't worry, Brother, we'll make it out of this." Seiver reached over to clap his brother on the shoulder. "Let's just get to the boat, first things first."

Dhark was all too aware of the number of eyes locked on him, watching him, hands resting tensely on the hilts of blades as simple courtesy kept them sheathed. The boat that held him and Flyre rocked idly in the surf. Undoubtably, Cyrius and Myriad were being watched just as fiercly by their newfound allies in their own boat, just a few meters down the shoreline, separated by a third boat that was waiting for the last three members of the party.

Seated across from Dhark, just as hesitant to trust as the other humans, but perhaps a bit more tolerant of the current company was Edward, the human Xodius had seemed to select as his laison between himself and the rest of the human forces.

"We can't wait forever, Edward."

Dhark shifted his gaze towards the nobleman seated beside Edward, someone who had introduced himself as Greymane, making sure to throw in the title of 'Lord' with his name. Unimpressed, Dhark had simply grunted his own greeting.

"We'll have to wait a little longer, at least until Xodius arrives."

"I will not leave any of them behind, Knight." Dhark narrowed his eyes. "Neither would Xodius. If you don't want to wait for all three of them, then you can leave, my brother, sisters, and myself will gladly sit on the shoreline to greet either our enemy, or our friends, whichever comes first."

The one called Greymane narrowed his eyes. "We cannot sacrifice three warships and their crews on the hopes that somewhere behind enemy lines there are-"

"Be very careful how you finish that line, Nobleman," Dhark glowered, "or you will speak yourself in to a rather tight corner. You saw the meteor fall, that could only have been the work of Xodius and my brothers...the Dragonlord was never able to teach such magic to his minions. I believe they are on their way and will be here in due time. Would you leave your brother behind, Knight?"

Edward straightened up in his seat briefly before letting out a soft sigh. "I don't even know where my brother is. Alexander was back at Ashland carrying out a task I had asked of him, trying to organize a retreat from the city. I don't even know if he made it out."

There was an awkward silence that fell over the boat, the only sound coming from the harbor surf slapping against the wooden hulls. Dhark finally cleared his throat and shook his head. "I've found that brothers know when someting is wrong with one another. If you look inside yourself, you'll either feel that there is something wrong, or you won't. Listen to instinct; know that what it tells you is true."

Greymane fell silent and Dhark shifted his attention to the other boat. Somehow, Cyrius was the center of attention and, though it was uneasy due to the surrounding battle, the humans with him were actually laughing. A soft weight pressed in against his side.

Flyre.

Hugging an arm around her shoulders, he smiled and allowed his mind to wander from the fires that burned along the rooftops of Northshore. The bond that had grown between the two of them was something neither had been able to fully explain, though it had been far more subdued before Xodius managed to break Dra'keth's ties to their will. He enjoyed it, though, the bond shared between himself and Flyre, and she felt the same.

"Dhark!"

Cyrius' voice brought back the grim scenery around him and he stood, eyes narrowed as they scanned the shoreline. Wrayne and Seiver were both making their way towards the boats at a brisk pace, the knight's shield scraping loudly as it was pulled behind them. Even in the low light, the fires that illuminated the sky were enough to reveal the crumpled form resting atop the metal wall.

Dhark jumped from the boat to lend a hand, hearing the splash of water as Cyrius dismounted to do the same. Up close, Xodius looked far better off than he had been at a distance. At least he was breathing.

"For a moment, I thought you had brought us a corpse." Dhark stooped to grab hold of the shield to help pull towards the boats. "The humans are waiting, we need to get out of here fast."

The night sky over Northshore lit up as a plume of fire rose from just beyond the city. All eyes turned to watch as a dark shape descended down, fire preceding its path. The roar of the advancing army grew loud enough to hear.

"He came here?" Dhark gave Wrayne a curious look and chuckled. "You must have done something to upset him."

Wrayne smirked as they arrived at the boats, helping to heft Xodius over the bow. "We dropped a big rock on his army."

Dhark, gaze skeptical, pushed their boat from the beach before climbing in and turning to make sure Seiver and Cyrius had boarded the other skiff. "I doubt it was just a rock."

"Well, it did come to life after." Wrayne nodded towards the still silent Xodius. "He allowed it all to be channeled through himself, though. I can only imagine how taxing that would have been."

Another loud explosion lit up the sky, the buildings nearest where Dra'keth had descended crumbling from the shockwave that radiated outward. Beside Wrayne, Greymane and Edward both ducked as the percussion from the blast reached them. As the light faded, they all watched the Dragonlord take back to the skies, circling low before lighting atop one of the fortress parapets.

"He was close. I think he came to watch his army work." Dhark growled softly as he looked back towards Edward. "Your ships need to start moving or they will never leave this harbor."

The druid watched as the Dragonlord let out a loud roar, wings spreading. It almost felt that Dra'keth's eyes were boring into him as their skiffs made a painstakingly slow pace towards their destination. With one swift stroke of his wings, Dra'keth was airborn, streaking towards the boats. Dhark had seen one of the M'alketh humans working with a bird once, a falcon, unleashing it on prey at will. The little raptor had been a marvel to watch, focusing on its prey and diving in to strike with a keen precision. Now he knew how the prey felt, helpless to stop the imminent deathblow.

Time itself seemed to slow as the dragon approached, maw opening to reveal the growing glow of the dragonfire that would be the end of them. It was strange, though, as rather than the orange hue he had expected to see, the light that surged forth was bright white, almost like sunlight. A soft gasp at his side caused Dhark to look towards Edward, who's gaze was locked on something on the other boat. He turned to look.

Seiver was standing tall, the shield on his arm glowing furiously as he faced the oncoming dragon. Orange blazed through the sky as a pillar of fire errupted from Dra'keth's maw, streaking towards the boat. The explosion that followed was blinding, forcing everyone on Dhark's boat who had been watching to turn away. The intensity of it all even caused Xodius, huddled in the bottom of the boat, to stir and open an eye. Following his fireball in, Dra'keth closed down on where the boat undoubtably was turned into a burned pile of floating debris to ensure the kill had been thorough.

He never made it through. There was another bright flash and the dragon's flight came to an abrupt halt, as though he had struck a wall at full force. Another bright flash and boom followed, the force sending the dragonlord flying back to splash into the water, tossing Dhark's boat with the resulting waves. He waited for the dragonlord to resurface and destroy his own boat, but after a few moments of growing silence, he looked back to where the other boat had been floating.

It remained, intact, still bobbing lightly in the water. Myriad was moving, a soft glow coming from her hands as the hovered over another form that was obscured from view. Cyrius had taken up oars, helping the humans to row the boat along faster. The two shouted at one another, Myriad apparently having the final say before she reached down and tossed something aside, the glint of polished plate armor catching the firelight.

"Seiver."

Dhark looked towards Wrayne and reached out to pat the warlock on the shoulder. "We'll see how he is when we arrive at the ship. He's in good hands for now."

"Aye...he is. Have you seen Dra'keth?"

All eyes in the boat began to scan the water nervously, looking for some sign that the dragonlord was either still alive, or dead and no longer a threat. With the smoke from the burning town blotting out the moonlight, though, there was little to be seen, and soon they were following the other boat in a hasty retreat back to their ship.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter X

Images of fire and destruction filtered through Wraith's mind as he lay, unconscious, on the stone. Blood and death, like what might what be seen on the battlefield, coupled with some massive demon presence laying waste to anything in its path. Everything seemed so close, yet refused to focus, slowly growing more clear but never defined enough to see. Just as the images began to crystallize, a painful flash of light caused him to startle awake.

He was in a cavern, something that looked as though it were part of a system of caves. Above him, flickering as it caught the light of the moon, was the pool he had fallen through, suspended in air, a part of the rocky ceiling by some means of magic he couldn't begin to explain to himself. His body ached from the fall, though it had not been more than fifteen feet or so; hardly enough to cause anything more than an inconvenient bruise.

Pushing himself up, he took stock of his surroundings. The walls of the cavern were smooth, appearing to have been worked on by someone at some point in time, though a countless number of years had done its work to smooth out the marks of the chisels that had chipped at the stone. Anchored into the rock walls were iron brackets made to hold torches. A few still carried the wooden shafts, but all of the remaining torches had long burned down beyond use. There were, at a quick glance, no means of leaving the chamber, but as he took a longer look at the smooth wall, the shadow of a fissure caught his attention.

Moving closer, he felt a cool breeze brush over his face, and through the fissure he could see a dim blue glow. Pressing in sideways, he was able to fit into the fissure and began to carefully inch his way along. More than once, the rock pressed in, forcing him to exhale and suck in his gut to move further, but as the glow became brighter, and the passage finally opened up and emptied into a hallway.

Lavish marble pillars held aloft a ceiling that was painted with men achieving glory on the battlefield with a massive army, the warhorses they rode just as menacing as the weapons they carried. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, absent of the candles that normally would have been burning, but in their place were strange blue stones that lit the room quite adequately; also the source of the glow that had caught his attention through the fissure.

Dust and cobwebs covered everything, giving him an idea of just how long the place had been neglected. However, it also betrayed where footsteps had disturbed its aged layers, leading towards a set of doors nestled against the wall farthest from him.

Following the trail, he clenched his fist and felt the reassuring press of his own claws against the palm of his hand, one of two weapons the druid could never take from him. He doubted they would be truly necessary, but it was comforting to know that he was not truly defenseless should something happen. Reaching out as he neared the door, Wraith turned the handle and inched it open to peer beyond. The room was empty, and he slid into it, letting the door shut silently behind him.

An art room, or what had once been one, greeted him. Empty frames displayed cob webbing in place of canvas that had long ago rotted away, while book cases carried nothing more than piles of dust with the odd piece of a cover protruding from the piles. His feet felt the soft texture of carpeting, but in its deteriorated state, the footprints he was following were still easily visible as they walked a steady path straight for a wall. Frowning, he ran the tip of a nail along the wall's surface until he felt it catch. Brining his eye close, he saw the faint line of a crack in the dim light, and kneeling to feel along the bottom of the wall revealed a faint draft of cool air escaping from whatever lay beyond.

Whatever mechanism once existed to open the door had long since been destroyed; a simple shove displaced the hidden door. Stepping over the threshold brought him into a room that, at first, made his stomach flutter. A soft, red glow washed over the walls of a large, circular chamber, the source being a large crimson crystal that hovered in the air. Orbiting the large crystal were four others, one green, one blue, one violet, and one amber, each lit faintly by some unknown magic. The floor below was tiled in plain beige, though painted over its surface was a large display of runes, all set within rings. He had seen similar patterns when watching Lycius, or even Wrayne, perform a number of their spells, but their meaning was well beyond him.

The walls carried similar designs, roughly a dozen were spread at intervals along the entire circumference of the chamber, and leaning in close to one he could detect the faint scent of old blood long dried by time. He furrowed his brow and glanced up towards the ceiling, half expecting to see more of the runic patterns. What he saw, however, was a domed roof with a clear crystal, almost like a diamond, the size of a small hut suspended by gold chains, the pale light of the moon filtering through the many facets.

A noise, feet scraping the floor, caught his attention and he scanned the room for its source. A door on the far side slid open slowly, and before he could think on his actions, Wraith ducked back through the secret doorway he had found and dug his claws into its surface to pull it shut, leaving just a crack to watch through.

B'aelthlin's wiry frame stepped into the chamber, a wickedly thin dagger that seemed to have dark flames enveloping its blade gripped tightly in his hand. The smaller orbiting crystals began to follow their tracks faster, the 

cores turning dark and cloudy. The dagger was raised, the tip poised at the druid's own chest, and Wraith took in a sharp breath as B'aelthlin drove it home, collapsing onto the floor.

The middle crystal flared to life, a stream of light bridging between itself and the fallen druid. The clouds within the smaller three began to take on a shape that was eerily human, their own bridges of light connecting themselves to the main crystal they orbited. With a sudden flash, it was over; the crystals slowed their pace, the lights dimming, and then stood still, the glow that had come from them gone completely.

Wraith had never fully understood magic, just the basic concepts that had once been told to him by Flyre, so his mind had no way of offering explanation to what he saw. The crystals began to fracture, the shards drifting apart to release the beings contained within, which were unceremoniously deposited onto the stone floor. Men, all alike, all similar to those back at the druid camp, all undoubtedly similar to what B'aelthlin must have looked like when he was younger.

He turned his eyes back to the crumpled form of the druid, who was stirring on the floor. Not able to believe what he was seeing, he watched, fascinated, as the dagger was withdrawn from the druid's chest, leaving no sighs it had ever penetrated robe or flesh, and tucked away as B'aelthlin pushed himself to his feet and dusted off his robes.

_So, that is how it is done._

Wraith jumped, startled, though all at once knew the voice. He steadied his breath and turned away from the sight, seeking a safer haven within the unknown temple. The back of his mind asked for an explanation of what he had seen, playing the events over in his mind.

_He is creating mirrors of himself, and that is how he populates his village. The dagger is the key; it seems to be what transfers the essence of his soul to the parent crystal, which then distributes it to the others, where the bodies are formed._

Wraith snorted softly, taking a moment to look around him before muttering, "Still makes no sense to me."

_I suppose it never will. Your mind is more trained for the tangible, the physical. A blade is meant to do damage, not leave a body unscathed. There are many who cannot comprehend the arts that twist and distort reality._

Wraith took a look around him, and then his gaze settled on his own clawed hands thoughtfully.

_You could. We know about his secret, and why he wishes to kill you. Can you imagine being able to replicate yourself? You would become a force to be reckoned with._

He growled softly and turned around, facing the concealed doorway which was still set ajar.

_Ah, you don't wish to become an army. What is it, then, that you want out of this? Oh, I see. It reminds you of the rest of the army; of the mindless existence they share._

Wraith froze as his eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

_As I said, consider me your guardian._

"A name?"

_Hush! Don't speak too loud, they've heard something._

It was true, he heard footsteps echoing in the chamber beyond, sandals scraping against stone, and even bare feet along with. Four against one, and he had no idea just what power they wielded, if any at all. Pressing himself against the wall, he waited as the door crept open and one of the younger druids, clad only in a single layer of simplistic robes, stepped across the threshold and locked eyes with the assassin. It was a look that would become frozen on his face as Wraith drove his claws home, the druid's stomach yielding with a sickening pop. Blood gushed warm over his scaled arm as he shoved the soon-to-be corpse into the doorway and resumed standing against the wall.

"I know you're out there! You think the death of one will affect me? I can easily have more created if I so wish."

Wraith smirked and stepped on the dying druid's leg as he tried to crawl into the chamber, to a familiar face perhaps. "Tsk, don't think you're going anywhere. Hurry up and die." He licked the blood on his hands and frowned, the metallic taste common to human blood noticeably absent. There was no flavor, initially, and the aftertaste that lingered in his throat was bitter. "Why not settle this as a fighter, face to face?"

"I could ask the same of the one hiding behind a wall."

Wraith laughed softly. "You have two others with you still!"

"Would you like me to send them to their deaths? They can walk right through that door; meet the same fate the first did."

"If that is what you wish. I won't complain if I get to taste more blood."

There was silence for a few moments, seconds that seemed almost like minutes.

_They have all departed save one, and it is B'aelthlin._

Wraith stepped out, planting a foot on the still-dying druid's neck and stepping hard, hearing a faint snap as 

the body went limp. B'aelthlin was in the middle of the chamber, standing beside the crystals which were still dark and powerless, though the dagger gripped in his hand was still engulfed in a dark flame. A cold smirk was set on the druid's face as he waited and watched. Wraith just found a spot on the ground, where it was open enough that he could move in any given direction.

"I see you found your way here. Now you know why I feared your coming."

"What were you planning on doing with me, B'aelthlin?"

The druid looked past him, at the corpse in the doorway lying in a pool of blood and shook his head slowly. "The death of us all, unless stopped. Perhaps I should tell you more about this crystal. I assume you witnessed a small part of what they can do."

Wraith nodded slowly, giving his blood covered hand a light flick, sending droplets of blood spraying against the stone floor. "There's more?"

"Indeed. I've lived for more years than you could ever comprehend, perfecting the use of this gift that was left for me by a bygone empire. My life, unending, is one of the many talents these crystals possess."

"Get on with it." Wraith growled softly, growing impatient. Perhaps it was the unsatisfying taste of the blood lingering in his throat.

"I can transfer what remains of one creature's life from their body into mine. It is eternal life, if you wish to see it in such simplistic terms."

"Doesn't keep me from ripping your head off your shoulders."

"No, no my friend. Mortality is still something that can end my life before its time. Age, however, will never be able to do such."

"Don't call me your friend. You brought me back from the brink of death, but beyond that, I consider you a threat to my own existence, just as I know you feel the same."

Wraith slowly made his way towards the crystals, reaching out to touch one of the satellites once it was in reach. The surface was cold, like a rock exposed to a harsh winter's wind. On contact, an image of thousands of faces, each similar in the lack of features they carried. All screamed, crying to be free of the prison that contained them against their will. He startled and pulled his hand away, eyes returning to B'aelthlin.

"It's a dangerous thing, the lifestones; I'll even admit there are things about them, properties and capabilities, which I do not know of." B'aelthlin ran a thumb along the edge of the blade he carried, admiring as the flames licked and engulfed his hand but left no burns. "In time, perhaps I will. Or, perhaps someone more ambitious than I will come along and overthrow me; they will then be burdened with unlocking the secrets tucked away in the crystals."

Wraith trailed one foot behind him, balancing his weight as he sized B'aelthlin up. The druid was, if he could trust his eyes, physically weak, frail even, perhaps gifted in magic or some other unseen skill, though the possibility also remained that maybe his eyes were deceiving him.

_You are better than him._

"So, shall we get this started?"

B'aelthlin laughed softly and let out a slow breath, holding his ground and not changing his stance in the slightest. "Thought you would never ask. So, what are you waiting for?"

_He is baiting you._

Wraith clenched his jaw, knowing it was true and that nothing about this was normal. Again, his eyes flickered to the dagger held lightly in B'aelthlin's hand.

_Do you think you can avoid the dagger?_

The blood chilled in Wraith's body as he realized the true danger of the blade. One touch, perhaps, was all it would take. It could drain him to nothing, leave him a shell, and give the druid what he wanted.

_Can you?_

B'aelthlin was waiting; it was unnerving just how calm he was in the silent chamber.

_He does not know what it will take to pierce your hide. That much can work for you, perhaps._

"So," the druid's voice echoed softly as he spoke, "what are you waiting for?"

Wraith sighed and shook his head. "What does it take; a touch? Drawn blood?"

"Guess you'll just have to find out."

Wraith braced himself and charged, diving at the druid to tackle him to the ground. His first priority, as his mind saw it, was the dagger. Even as the two tumbled to the stone floor, his hands were moving to grip the wrist that controlled the dangerous blade.

_The others are returning. There's more with them._

Wraith growled, his hands both occupied as they kept the blade at bay. B'aelthlin had a surprising amount of strength in his frail body, the two rolled, struggling for control over the blade. However, Wraith had something 

B'aelthlin either forgot, or never seemed to take into account. Teeth.

It was a quick snap, and the druid gurgled a scream as the taste of warm blood, human blood, flooded into Wraith's mouth. The hand holding the dagger relaxed and he wrenched it free, giving the throat trapped in his teeth a sharp twist that ended the life of B'aelthlin. He stood, quickly, as feet scraped their way closer to the chamber. With a hiss, he tucked the dagger away and sprinted towards the door where he had left the first body, jumping over the threshold. Tugging the dead druid inside, he slammed the door shut and wedged the body against it. Temporary, it probably would fail to hold anyone back.

_So, what now?_

"I don't know."

_You have the dagger. How many of them could you kill?_

Wraith shook his head and sighed.

_Not terribly confident against numbers?_

"Never trained for numbers. I was built to take on a single target, maybe two. How many are there?"

_Only a handful, for now. When they find their leader dead, I can only imagine the rest of the village will descend upon you._

"The stone created them, could it undo that?"

_Perhaps. It would take time to find out, though, could you stall?_

"What else would you need from me?"

_Nothing. Just survive until I can return with a proper answer. The temple seems rather large, they will be looking for you, but the shadows run deep._

Wraith smirked and started picking his way back, mindful of the dust that covered the floor as he stepped easy to avoid leaving a trail. "How long do you think it will take?"

_I cannot say. I have a few ideas of where to look._

"Don't take your time."

_I will try not to._

Wraith sighed and paused to get his bearings. If anything, it was going to be a long wait, even if Guardian was quick to respond. A crash came from behind him, wood splintering as the door he had braced gave way. The few already on his tail were moving quickly, and he found himself searching for a good spot to climb the wall, nails digging into whatever crack they could find for purchase. He would hide, kill what he could, and wait.

He was an assassin, a hunter; waiting was a virtue.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter XI

Dhark closed the wooden door behind him, the creak of the hinges lost to the creak of the ship as it rocked on the water. Behind him, in the room, Myriad hovered over the still unconscious form of Seiver. It was a sight he could no longer bear to see, so he excused himself and stepped into the waiting gaze of Wrayne.

"So?"

"Myriad and I have done all we can for him. Magic only goes so far when it comes to healing; the body only able to take so much before it becomes counterproductive. The rest, for now, is up to him."

A glint of metal in the firelight caught his eye, the Knight's armor, the shield scarred and cleaved in two set amongst it. Dhark shook his head slowly and gave his brother a pat on the shoulder before starting for the ladder well that led to the upper decks of the ship.

"Do you think he'll make it?"

Dhark paused and glanced back over his shoulder. "I don't know."

"Where are you going?"

"Above. Xodius woke up?"

Wrayne nodded and rubbed his eyes. The ship had gotten underway five turns of the hourglass ago, but it felt like so much longer. Xodius had been unconscious for a few hours, slowly recovering before wandering off on his own. Cyrius had spotted him perched on the bow of the boat. Seiver, however, showed no signs of recovery. His condition had stabilized, but beyond that, nothing had changed.

Thankfully, Dra'keth had never resurfaced after being repelled by, what some were calling, a miracle. The brothers and sisters all knew what had happened, though. Seiver had near killed himself to ensure they all had a chance to escape. The humans would appreciate it once they were able to comprehend and understand it.

"I think I am going to speak with him."

Wrayne smiled some. "You would have made an interesting warlock."

Dhark just chuckled softly. "Ah, but you would have made a terrible druid, so it worked out for the best, didn't it." He let out a slow breath and started up the wooden stairwell. "Get some rest, brother; see if you can get Myriad to do the same. You both look exhausted."

"I will," Wrayne promised. "If you see Cyrius or Flyre, have them do the same. We've all been running hard for a while now."

The ship was, after a quick tour, easily navigated. The lowest regions, the bilges, were home to ballast stones and only a few skilled personnel capable of repairing the ship's hull should it take damage. Above that, forward of the mast, was the enlisted crew's living accommodations. Hammocks strung between wooden poles, nothing extravagant, but they all seemed content to call it home. Aft of that was the sick bay, where Seiver and a few others injured in the fighting were held. Further aft still, the officer quarters sat nestled in the back of the ship. Again, it was hammocks and wooden posts, but each space was partitioned by a curtain, offering some privacy, and a spot on the deck was given way for personal storage lockers. The next two decks up were home to the massive iron devices known as cannons, the tools the humans had used to exact a devastating amount of damage on the swarming Drek'kan. Those particular decks reeked of sulfur and other chemicals he couldn't quite place.

The stairwell doubled back over itself and opened onto the main deck. Dhark welcomed the cool air as it struck his face, washing away some of the unease that gripped him. Wind kept the sails over his head tight on all three masts, and the sound of the water being broken by the ship as it drove onward reached his ears. The sun was creeping over the horizon, just off the ship's port beam.

Overhead, working amidst the sails, the ship's crew that was on duty tended to the rigging that, by means he didn't care to understand, kept the wooden beast on course and moving strong. Here, he could see the doorway with the stained glass window that led into the Captain's personal wardroom and berthing. Lamplight flickered in there; he had not seen it go out all night. Atop the Captain's berthing sat the helm, and the helmsman and navigator both stood, focused on their duty, both grim-faced.

Other than the sounds of the ship and ocean, it was quiet. Even birds refused to break the silence that had fallen over the three ships where men's voices failed to sing, to joke, or even speak. In their wake was destruction; the loss of their home, of their family and friends. There were no jokes to tell.

Up in the prow a solitary figure sat alone, hunched in the morning shadows cast by the sails and masts. The ship's crewmen wisely avoided the strange creatures in their midst, but this one was given both the widest berth, and the most curious stares.

_Seiver's mind is lost to me._

Dhark made his way to the front of the ship and sat down next to Xodius, reaching over to give him an 

almost instinctive pat on the shoulders. The demon responded by simply lying down on the wooden deck. Behind them, the ship's bell sounded the hour in a sharp chime, the hourglass turned over to continue tracking their time on the water. The watch shouted, six-o-clock and sunrise, while drums beat the steady drill that would rouse the daytime crews for breakfast so they could in turn relieve the crew that had worked over the night to keep the ship sailing.

_He is lost in his mind, Dhark, and I do not know if he will be able to find his way back._

"Time will tell. His body is battered, but will heal. What happened?"

_I don't know, I was unable to focus on much of anything while in the weakened state I was. I'd forgotten how much it takes to call down the wrath of the heavens._

Dhark chuckled, but the sound came out forced and empty to his own ears. "We escaped to see another sunrise; Seiver saw to that much, as did you. My brothers, sisters, and I could not ask for more."

_Once we make landfall, you and your brethren are free to do as you wish. You helped me free my will from Lycius, and that was all I asked of you._

"I think we are all bound to see this war through to its end, or at least see it through for as long as our lives allow it. We can't turn our backs to the advancing threat; it will eventually just find us again."

_True. I, myself, am in the same position. I have a lot of matters to attend to before this war is through._

"I still haven't figured out what you are."

An eye turned to regard the druid. _What do you mean?_

"You're no demon. That much I'm certain of."

_We have had this conversation before._

"And I never did get all of my questions answered, but I've been watching you and have learned a few things."

_Such as?_

"I don't need to say what you can read for yourself, do I?"

_I'm curious; I would also like to hear it from your own mouth._

"Well, like I said, you're not a demon. I've been talking with Wrayne and he tends to agree, he says there's something different about you. He's attuned to their presence, can see and even smell a demon when it draws near, but you don't trigger any of those responses, and as far back as he can recall you never have."

_Interesting._

"So," Dhark glanced over his shoulder as the sound of voices carried over the deck, "mind if I ask just what it is you are?"

_That is not a question to be answered here, or now._

"So you're not going to tell me, again."

_Correct._

"Not even a hint?"

_No._

Dhark frowned, but mockingly. "Well, fine then. Remain an enigma. Have you seen Flyre or Cyrius?"

_Flyre is asleep, below. The Captain gave her one of the officer's spots, the officer was on shore when the fight began and killed. A Lieutenant, McMichaels, if I recall correctly. Look for the nameplate and you will find her. As for Cyrius,_ Xodius craned his head skyward, towards the tangle of rigging and rope ladders that led to the ship's peak, _he is watching the sunrise from the crow's nest._

"You would know better than any right now; how is everybody doing?"

_Bittersweet would be the best way to say it. Seiver is a cause for worry, as is the advancing armies of M'alketh and the growing war, but everyone is also relieved to have, at the very least, survived this far. I think, though, that Cyrius is still wishing he and Wraith had not parted ways in Ashland to work alone._

Dhark sighed, glancing over his shoulder as the sounds of the ship's crew grew louder; the deck more crowded with the daily work. "They worked well together. He doesn't blame himself, does he?"

_No. He blames Dra'keth._

"What happened to the Dragonlord?"

_He is back in his lair, though I'm not quite sure what it is he is doing. He has learned how to block himself from my mind's eye. Northshore's collapse is complete, however, and the army settled in._

"They're not moving any further south?"

Xodius shook his head. _Not yet. They will, though, and soon. The humans will have to hold a council and organize their armies into one solid alliance. Hopefully, with a bit of skill and luck, they will manage to hold the line where it stands now and not lose any further ground._

"How do you think the war will end?"

_Favorably. I believe Dra'keth will fall. Stand tall, we have guests._

Dhark glanced over his shoulder and watched as Edward and Greymane picked their way through the deckhands towards the prow. Partway there, Greymane leaned in to tell the Ashland knight something before turning and doubling back. Edward nodded before resuming his walk towards the front of the ship.

"Xodius, Dhark, good morning to you both. How's your brother doing?"

Dhark stood and took the hand that was being offered to him as a courtesy, giving it a firm, yet light, shake. "Seiver is doing as well as could be expected, thank you for asking."

"Glad to hear as much, I suppose it could be worse."

_So, Edward, what can we do for you this morning?_

"Admiral Perrin would like to speak with you; Greymane has gone down below to get Wrayne."

Dhark frowned slightly but nodded. "Of course. Do you know what about?"

Edward shook his head before turning to lead them both aft towards the wardroom. Dhark kept his gaze focused ahead, but more than once he could feel eyes on him as conversation died to hushed whispers. He had a hard time finding wrong in the accusatory glares, they had all been through hell and the Drek'kan was to blame. Guilt by association was almost impossible to avoid.

_They will soon realize that the fault is not yours. Let the initial shock wear off first._

Dhark snorted softly, giving Xodius a brief glance.

_I will monitor your brother without rest. If there is anything I can do, it will be done. Try not to worry about him too much._

Dhark frowned, but nodded slowly as Edward opened the door to the wardroom. Inside, it was as though the cramped lower decks of the ship were a part of another world. Spanning almost the entire width of the ship, the wardroom was filled with a table and chairs, the wood stained a rich, dark tone and inlaid with intricate carvings of ships riding waves. On the walls circular windows of stained glass allowed light to filter into the room in colors, the aft window bearing the ship's name and spanning the entire length of the wall. Spaced between the windows, framed in what looked like mahogany, were various portraits of the ship itself in various stages of its commission. Dhark turned away from them, his attention going to the man standing by the table engaged in conversation with Admiral Perrin.

_The ship's Captain. He will not be here long._

Dhark nodded slowly, keeping off to the side and simply waiting to be addressed. Charts were soon folded, and with a curt exchange of salutes, the Captain departed the wardroom with a brisk step, not even giving the three guests in his wardroom a second look.

Perrin waited until the door closed before motioning to the table. "Please, Dhark, Edward, sit."

"Thank you." Dhark settled himself into a chair and couldn't help but smirk as the seasoned wood creaked and settled under his weight. Beside him, Edward did much the same.

"I should start," Perrin said as he took his own seat, "by expressing how thankful I am. Were it not for your efforts I am convinced that the men on these ships would be dead right now."

A slight frown flickered across Dhark's face as he looked towards Edward. The knight seemed equally uncomfortable with the praise. It was understandable, the cost had been extreme; it was difficult to view the end result of it all as even a minor victory.

_He knows the pain you feel now. Do not think he is blind to those lost and the cost of survival for these three vessels._

Dhark nodded slowly and cleared his throat. "I am sorry about those left behind. Northshore was a terrible battle for you and your men, Admiral."

"But one that is now past us. We need to look at what lies ahead while learning from what has been left behind." Perrin took a moment to gather his own thoughts before continuing. "I'll be honest with all three of you. I do not think this war will have a good outcome if things continue as they have been. We are stuck in a constant retreat, the enemy is breathing down our neck, and soon the time will come where we either jump into the sea or fight in a corner. I would rather that not be the case."

"I would be inclined to agree with your sentiments, Admiral, what do you need from my brothers and I?"

Perrin took another few moments to respond, rubbing his eyes slowly. Suddenly, Dhark was all too aware of just how fatigued the Admiral was. Inwardly, he doubted the man had slept in days, most likely when the threat of invasion surfaced. A pang of sympathy ran through him and he nodded, not needing to hear the request that was so easily read in the man's eyes.

"Admiral, I think I can speak for my brothers and sisters when I say we will assist by any means possible."

_My role in this conflict has not yet reached an end either, Admiral Perrin. I should not have to say that I will be present on the battlefield._



Worry seemed to lift from the Admiral's eyes, bringing a faint smile along with. "Edward?"

The knight nodded, it was all he needed to do.

"Right then, gentlemen, here's the current plan. The ships will sail to Port Aguilar; from there we will travel inland until meeting any allies who have received our summons in the Chrissayel valley. This particular valley is one of the few traversable passes between the central mountain range that cuts through the continent. It is a choke point where we can finally stage the proper response to this growing aggression."

_And the other choke points will be held as well?_

"To the last man. The goal is to not allow Dra'keth to outflank us. It will, though, take as many armies as we can muster to the cause."

_I imagine finding allies will not be difficult._

"What do you need from my brothers and I?"

Perrin let out a slow breath and shook his head. "Knowledge. You are the experts on the threat we face, this new breed of warrior that Dra'keth has unleashed, and even on Dra'keth himself. Any piece of knowledge imparted to us will be more useful than you can imagine. Edward has already volunteered to assist you in any way possible, and I imagine others will want to join."

Dhark smiled faintly. "I am surprised any would trust us well enough to stand by us."

"I assure you," Perrin sat back in his chair, arms crossed, "that there is no hostility harbored towards you directly. Your brother's shield was shattered keeping my men safe, and those who witnessed that act will quickly sway the minds of others."

_How soon until we arrive in port?_

"If the wind stays strong to our backs, two days at most."

"Very well then, Admiral," Dhark stood and actually felt a wave of weariness settle over him. "I'll be sure to speak on this matter further. I do need to take my leave, though, I am exhausted."

Perrin nodded slowly. "Of course. Get some rest. Edward, if you can, I would like to speak with you on another matter before you leave. Dhark, I will also see about having our ship's medical officer do what he can for your brother."

Dhark nodded silently before opening the door to the wardroom. Xodius slipped out ahead of him and, once the demon's tail snaked clear, the door was swung shut with a soft click. Again, a soft breeze touched at the scales on Dhark's face as he felt even more drained than before.

_Your kin will stand by your decision. They always have, and you have never led them astray._

"That's not what I am afraid of, Xodius." Dhark started for the stairwell that led down into the belly of the ship. "I'm worried that this alliance they are trying to form will not be able to stop Dra'keth."

_That is something that can only be revealed by time. To dwell on it now is foolish and will only cause more worry than is good. Go rest, let the ship's doctor see to Seiver for now, he will do well enough. All of you, your brothers and sisters, need sleep._

"Xodius, I want you to promise me something."

_What might that be?_

"If something should happen on the battlefield and I fall, I know you will be able to keep contact with me until death takes hold. If I fall, enlighten me as to what you are if I have not found out by that time."

The demon laughed and shook his head slowly. _I do not believe it will come to that, Druid. But, if such a thing should happen, then you have my word. You will know._

Dhark smiled wearily and nodded before stepping down below decks. "Thank you."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter XII

The summit of M'alketh was glowing, a deep crimson light that pulsed and almost made it seem as though the long-dormant volcano had suddenly come back to life. Some even believed this to be the case, shuffling away to what they assumed was a safe haven within the kingdom, all the while under the watchful eyes of roving guardsmen and militants. However, in spite of their fears, this was not the case. In the Dragonlord's own chambers, fires burned with an eerie green flame while ritualistic circles drawn on the rock floors and walls in blood provided the source for the unnatural gleam.

Torrents of energy streamed freely from the circles, intersecting in the middle of the large chamber where a solitary figure stood. Coated in the black scales common to his kin, the Drek'kan was writhing as his mind and body were flooded, imbued with magic he had never known before, all under the watchful eye of Dra'keth. Standing beside the black dragon, still in a haze from a similar ritual though working hard to conceal his discomfort, stood another of the dark army, clad in the dark crimson robes of a mage.

"You see, Coelu, I can grant any I deem fit with tremendous power, the likes of which none of your peers could possibly attain. All I ask is loyalty." The Dragonlord smirked, eyes turning towards the mage at his side. "Wear those trappings well and do not disappoint me as your predecessor did. Lycius was a fool who underestimated the strength of his adversaries, relying far too much on the strength of others to keep him standing."

The one called Coelu nodded slowly. "Of course, M'lord."

"Be wary of the traitors, Coelu. Their mage is not to be trifled with, she was the first of the Order, and Lycius foolishly granted her strength second to none, as he did with all of her brethren."

The flow of energy ceased in the blink of an eye, leaving the second Drek'kan curled in the fetal position in the middle of the chambers, green smoke curling as it rose from his skin. After a few moments of remaining motionless, he stirred and propped himself up weakly on his knees.

"Thrax, you are second in command to Coelu, the two of you answer to myself alone. Is this understood?"

Both acknowledged with a soft nod of the head.

"Good. Thrax, you are unique in that I have given you domain over death itself. As the first of my necromancers you carry a burden unmatched by all others in my army. Do not fail me in demonstrating your strengths. Your primary enemy will be the Druid known as Dhark. Of all the traitors, he perhaps stands the best chance of counteracting any magic you are capable of performing. The both of you are tasked with eliminating all of these traitors. Leave the armies to my guidance and control; focus on the wretches that have thus far caused nothing but misery amongst my warriors."

Coelu smirked and nodded slowly. "We shall not disappoint you, M'lord. Rest assured they will all pay dearly for having turned against you."

Dra'keth's eyes turned coldly to Thrax, who was being handed a set of black robes trimmed in gold by a human assistant. The necromancer met the gaze and nodded his head slowly in understanding, though his eyes flickered with a cold, dangerous fire. "Yes, M'lord."

"Do not return here unless you have succeeded in your task." Dra'keth gave Thrax and Coelu both a parting look before dismissing them. "Be gone with you both. Do as I command."

The two bowed before turning to depart the chambers, Thrax giving the freshly donned robes a brief look over as he adjusted them for comfort. Once in the main halls that networked through the mountain stronghold, the two shared a look that caused both to smirk.

"Something is on your mind, Coelu. Care to enlighten me?"

The mage laughed softly. "It is nothing at all different from the thoughts running through yours. I've been thinking on the group that betrayed the Dragonlord, trying to find the motivation behind such an action. Dra'keth is powerful; it is never wise to break such an allegiance without having found something far more important."

Thrax glanced towards a human sentry that was walking by, but the man was oblivious to the conversation. "Indeed. The combined power of a group like that would be more than enough to topple even Dra'keth's rule over this kingdom. I think they seek to overthrow our master and claim this fortress, and the other Drek'kan, as their own."

"Ambitious, yes, but foolhardy. They may be strong, but the combined forces of the Dragonlord's armies would topple them before they reached their goal. Of course, that would require Dra'keth to shift his focus from his current task."

Thrax paused mid-step. "We've been taught since our creation that we are the true strength of the Dragonlord, Coelu. He uses our brethren as puppets, pawns in his scheme of domination. I think we need to seize what is rightfully ours, take what belongs to us."

"It crossed my mind to do such a thing, Thrax. But over ambition can kill us both. There are easier ways to 

see we get what is rightfully due to us."

"You're going to accept things as they are, then? If so, I am disappointed."

Coelu laughed and shook his head. "Oh, heavens no. But I am not about to challenge Dra'keth in his home."

"Then how?"

"Think, Thrax. Dra'keth gave you a mind capable of doing what few others that share our blood can. Use it." He motioned for the necromancer to continue walking. "We allow these…traitors to do as they will, whittle away at the strength they have and turn them into our pawns. Control the strength they bring here, because they will be coming here to kill Dra'keth. I have little doubt they will win, at that."

Thrax smirked and nodded slowly. "With their numbers weakened, and strength drained from fighting Dra'keth, we destroy them and assume ultimate control. I like the way you think, brother."

"Which is why I am the mage, and you are the puppet master. Dra'keth is correct in assuming the biggest threat we face is their mage and druid, the druid could undoubtedly destroy us both."

"And the mage?"

"Pyromancy is a powerful tool. While you were being imbued with your power, Dra'keth informed me of the full details concerning Lycius' demise. Lycius was a powerful warlock, the strongest in M'alketh at that, and he was destroyed by this mage. She has had time and practice both to hone her skills, to go against them in combat, even as a fellow mage, leaves the outcome up to chance. One lucky spell, one mistimed counter spell, even a chaotic torrent in the arcane stream of energy that courses through this planet, could mean defeat."

"A battle where the outcome is not certain, in other words."

Coelu nodded slowly. "I want you to think of a way to alleviate these problems. I will focus on creating a plan that suits Dra'keth's own agenda in the mean time. Keep quiet; we cannot trust our own kind in this matter as they are still under Dra'keth's control."

"Is there any information regarding our traitorous kin that may be of any value? Or are they all relatively unknown, save by name."

Coelu gestured down the hall to where the old masters of each skill used to train. "The Druid's quarters are down that way. In their retreat from the fortress, they left behind many items that were theirs personally. Scour their quarters, leave no stone unturned. Perhaps you will find something of value there."

Thrax smirked as he glanced down the hall. "I daresay this seems far more fun than it had sounded coming from Dra'keth. I may very well enjoy myself."

"Let's pray that is so, I would hate to think you loathe your job." Coelu paused and tapped his leg thoughtfully. "Also, take time to become familiar with the trapped knowledge you now contain in that mind of yours. I was fortunate enough to have been schooled as a mage prior to my new assignment; the ways of the arcane rivers that flow in this world are familiar to me. Necromancy, however, is undoubtedly far more different from your previous skill."

Thrax snorted and nodded. "Aye, Warlocks are masters of various forms of magic, but none of the spells floating in my mind are familiar. Some seem similar, but I will have to spend time recording them and studying the different effects they carry."

Coelu turned and started down a hallway, his own body language indicating the conversation was coming to a close. "Do what you need to do; I will see you when the time for our departure is near, most likely in a few days. Spend your time wisely in both learning your new trade and seeking information regarding our adversaries. I expect nothing less than perfection. Dra'keth chose you for a reason, and I expect great things from you."

Thrax nodded, but as soon as the mage had his back turned sneered. If Coelu thought for just a moment that he, as an Arcanist, was going to talk down on a necromancer for much longer, then the mage was due for a crude awakening. A few, terribly malicious and cruel, thoughts passed through his mind, but he put them to rest as he started for the Druid's own living quarters. Though he did not think it fit that Coelu lead their team of two, he did view the mage as closer to an equal than potential subordinate. The combined power they both could possess was tremendous; he did not want to weaken himself by simply eliminating the other half of the alliance that had been forged. That was not wise in its own right.

His gaze went down to his finger tips as, with a mere thought, dark flames danced across his fingertips, sickly green energy glowing within the flickering tongues of fire. The power of a necromancer, to undo life and twist death to his will. A puppet master, he had been called, interesting in the darker truth hinted at within the title. He had told Coelu that the spells that now lay dormant in the back of his mind, waiting to be called forth on a whim, carried unknown effects to him. That was a lie. The Dragonlord had been if nothing else thorough in how much knowledge he had imbued his new tool with. Every word's meaning, every spell's outcome, even how to create, find, or summon the various reagents needed to complete the more darker rituals all lay nestled in his memory. Gone 

were the older spells of the warlock, replaced in full by masterpieces of death.

He stepped into Dhark's chambers and looked around, scowling at the smell of natural life. In the corner, planted in a clay pot, grew flowers, snapdragons if memory served him right. To anyone not keen on such things, they were a natural plant, used for decoration or to lend their aroma to an otherwise stuffy room. To Thrax, though, they were wretched. He scowled, nose wrinkled at the foul odor that permeated the air. Even as he looked at them in disgust, he could see the glowing aura that surrounded them, their life essence, bolstered by the druid's magic and skill. He hated them.

A dismissing wave of his hand went towards the plant and, with a sense of satisfaction, he watched the aura around them distort and fade, slowly giving way to a darker magic that choked and suffocated the plant. Greens swiftly turned to browns, and then grays as the stalk wilted away, the petals curling and falling to the floor. Lifeless, destroyed, drained. Thrax was pleased with the display and its end result, the death of something elated him in ways he never knew possible; in ways the magic of a warlock had never done for him. Such weak things, warlocks, relying on channeling magic through the stolen souls of others and calling forth familiars to do the dirty work for them, they would never know the power he had been granted.

He turned his attention to the rest of the room, eyes scanning over the spines of the various tomes shelved on one side of the room. One, in particular, caught his eye and he moved closer to slide it out. Unlike the rest, which all carried their share of dust from neglect, or only showed signs of having been open for reading a handful of times, this one carried a well-worn spine and cover. The first pages were blank, but soon his eyes found the handwritten scrawl of a quill, each entry carrying dates and details of that day's events. Training, observations, even a few feats made in self-study of the druidic arts that none in M'alketh would ever know about. Stories about brethren and the training they had undergone, about the decision to no longer train the Drek'kan in the arts of natural magic.

Scanning through the entries brought nothing of true interest to surface until one caught his eye. A detailed encounter concerning the pyromancer, Flyre, and the druid both venturing off on their own to walk the banks of the river that flowed near M'alketh. Thrax's eyes lit up as he read on, the full details of their hidden love playing out before him as the once private entry in the druid's journal now betrayed a weakness that could very well be the thread that unraveled the entire group of traitors.

The necromancer licked his teeth, his mind imagining the taste of spilled blood as he read the entry again, just to ensure he had indeed understood them for what they were. There it was, again, written in the druid's own heavy-handed script.

_Tonight, Flyre and I became as one. We are, until the darkness of death takes us, tied to each other. I am hers, she is mine, and I would do everything within my power to safeguard the union that was witnessed by the land and skies alone._

Thrax flipped through the rest of the journal. There were no other entries regarding the subject, more mundane observations of day to day life with subtle hints at the partnership shared by the two. It disgusted him inwardly that such a thing could exist, 'love' as a word was almost as bitter in his mouth as a poison. Indeed it was a poison, the very one that would rip the very life out of the traitors and destroy their will.

He flipped back to the entry he had read, tracing a claw along the page before ripping it out. Tucked safe inside his pocket, it would not be at risk of falling into the wrong hands. The rest of the book was given a final look before he placed his hand on its cover, igniting it in a dark blaze that did not so much burn the pages as wilt them away before leaving a pile of decayed dust that was scattered into the air with a single swipe of his hand. A final look was cast about the Druid's old home before, with a mere thought, he allowed the decay to creep in. Wooden shelves and old tomes withered away, crumbling into nothing more than dust as he stepped into the hall. Even as the door closed behind him, the room became nothing more than empty space surrounded by rock walls, every trace of the traitor erased from M'alketh with nothing more than a thought.

Casting a look down to his clenched fist, Thrax summoned the dark fire that had engulfed his fingertips once before, admiring the way the flames danced to his will. It was addicting, even in the early stages of life, to think he had already surpassed what his brethren sought to be. He extinguished the flames by simply clenching his fist, a few stray sparks flitting off to either side as he walked along in silence. A human, mage by the smell of the arcane residue that lingered around him, darted past, keeping well to the wall in an effort to keep as much space between himself and Thrax as possible, and an act which only amused the necromancer enough to draw out a soft chuckle.

A thought crossed his mind, and he whirled about to confront the mage that had just passed by, actually having to jog slightly before being able to catch up. The human gave him a wary, yet polite nod as he slowed to a stop and turned to face the approaching necromancer.

"Is there something I can do for you, Sir?"

Thrax snorted softly. "Drop the title; call me by my name, Thrax. I need a favor from you."



The mage furrowed his brow but nodded. "Certainly, Thrax. How can I be of assistance?"

"I need a portal opened, one which can take me from here out to the battlefield at Northshore. I need to speak with someone there and it is of the utmost importance." Thrax smirked, though it must have looked like a sneer, as the human took a hesitant step back. "What's your name, mage?"

"Alex, Arcanist third class."

"Well then, Arcanist Alex, can you do this?"

The mage, Alex, nodded slowly before taking in a slow breath and concentrating. "The ley line was opened recently by mages on the front, one of them returned this morning with the map that showed how to trace the lines back to Northshore." He smiled at the opportunity to flaunt his studies.

Thrax, though, was unimpressed and simply feigned interest. "Of course. Our military's magi are terribly important. I can't imagine where we would be without them."

As the mage conjured up the portal that connected the battlefield with the mountain fortress, Thrax took in the few details he could see in the window. The battle had been fierce, but ultimately his own kind had emerged victorious. It was a testament to their strength and potential, a potential which Dra'keth was undermining by keeping such unyielding control over the masses. The mage nodded slowly to indicate the portal was stable, and Thrax smiled.

"Fantastic. You're coming with me, Alex. You'll be my means for returning home once I'm through."

The mage stuttered, hesitant on how best to respond, before simply bowing slightly. "Of course, Thrax."

It only took an instant to transition from M'alketh's torch-lit interior to the battlefield, which was bustling with activity. Healers were seeing to the wounded while others assisted with triage. A few roving bands were routing out the diminishing pockets of resistance and, every now and then, something would explode in the distance as a mage or some other magic wielder reduced a building to rubble. Organized chaos was the most immediate way of describing the scene that came to Thrax's mind. He reached out to grab one of the passing priests, ignoring the protesting hiss that ensued.

"The human bodies, where are they being piled?"

The priest gave him a quick look over before withdrawing whatever remark it was about to make, pointing to a spot where several buildings had been cleared out to form a mass grave. Thrax released him and started towards the pile of bodies, letting the rock and debris wither and turn to dust rather than stepping through it and risk a fall, injury, or other inconvenience. Alex remained close behind and tried to keep his eyes from going wide at the subtle, yet effortless display of strength on the necromancer's part.

So much death, so many lives extinguished in the bitter throes of battle. Thrax's gaze roamed over the corpses, admiring the twisted look of shock that was frozen on so many of the faces he could see. All men, some young enough to be called boys, some old enough that the grave was most likely not too far out in their future anyway. He ignored them all otherwise, though, until his gaze found a human clad in ornate armor, the breastplate carrying a regal symbol of some rich family line or heritage. In several places, the metal plate of the armor was dented, where it had stayed the blades of attackers, but there was one strike, where steel had punctured steel, and that was all it took to leave a breathing man dead.

With a wave of his hand, Thrax watched the bodies that covered the plate-wearer dissolve into nothingness, dust returning to the earth as it were, until his prize was easily viewed. Stepping through the corpses, he looked back and smirked in satisfaction at the hand Alex had pressed over his mouth to ward off the offending smell of death and decay.

"Relax, mage, death is a beautiful thing if you know how, and when, to embrace it."

"You will have to pardon my inquiring, Thrax, but what good is a dead body to you?"

Thrax laughed as he reached out to lay hands on the plate-wearer. "Watch, mage, you may learn something yet."

Green fire erupted and engulfed both Thrax and the corpse, drawing more than one set of eyes to the scene to watch. Thrax couldn't blame the onlookers, they had never before seen a necromancer up to now, and he relished the idea of leaving a taste of bitter jealousy with the other magic users. The fire snaked through the corpse's mouth and ears, flaring back out through the eyes as tendrils snaked over, under, and through the body. Energy welled up and slowly, the lifeless fingers began to curl and flex. A few gasped, others still shrank away as the corpse rose and sat upright in the pile of its fallen comrades, mouth agape as it howled in torment.

"Calm your spirit, fool," Thrax commanded it, stepping back as the slain human staggered and struggled to stand on its own power. "You will state your name."

"I," the corpse paused, looking over its damaged body as a look of pained regret showed on its face. "I am General Talbot of Northshore's royal army."

Thrax smirked coldly and clasped his hands behind his back. Of all his onlookers, he was slightly pleased 

to see Alex had not turned away. "General, you say."

The corpse suddenly lunged, making a haphazard swipe at the necromancer, but some unseen shield forced the hand to yield before making contact. Thrax looked entirely unconcerned and went so far as to laugh.

"Why?" Talbot wheezed through a punctured lung. "Why do my limbs not obey me?"

"You are mine, General. I called your spirit back into your body, and you will serve me until such a time as I release you to finally share death with the rest of your men."

"No," Talbot protested, but the voice was weak and unconvincing. "I will not obey you."

Thrax nodded slowly as he circled the corpse. "You will. But relax, General, I will not ask anything difficult of you. Indeed, your time in this body is short; all I need of you is to answer a few questions."

"I will answer nothing!"

"Wrong," Thrax snapped. "Where are the rest of the forces going, the ones that retreated from battle here?"

Talbot seethed and struggled, body heaving with each hissed breath as he fought to resist the question. After a few moments, though, his body relented and he sagged heavily. "They sail to Aguilar. From there, the leaders of the alliance will meet in Chrissayel to discuss strategies for keeping the dark tide at bay."

"What is the most likely strategy the humans will take?"

"The mountain range that spans the continent's girth is traversable by several valleys. These are choke points which can be easily defended and turned to an advantage against any advancing force."

Thrax snorted and nodded as he looked back to Alex. "Prepare the portal back to M'alketh and be ready to open another." He looked back at Talbot. The knight was, even in death, looking weary. The pale skin of his face was creased with sorrow at having been forced to even betray that much. "You were a proud knight in your day, were you not?"

Talbot nodded. "I served with honor."

The necromancer smirked as he gave his talons a look over. "In death, you have single-handedly given your enemy the information it needs to destroy those you died to protect. I feel you should know that much before your soul is released."

Talbot spit to the side and seethed, breath hissing from the hole in his chest as well as through his teeth. "I hope you rot in the depths of hell, creature."

Thrax waved his hand dismissively and the body, weighted by the heavy plate armor it still wore, collapsed to the ground lifeless once more. He stepped towards the portal Alex was already forming, waiting for it to become stable so he could step through.

"You are powerful, Thrax. It is awe inspiring, I must admit."

Thrax snorted softly as he looked towards the mage. "Find the ley line that leads to Port Aguilar, I expect this to be done without delay and no later than tomorrow morning. I will have a surprise waiting for our traitors, and the retreating forces of Northshore."

Alex straightened up before nodding. "Yes, sir."

Thrax snorted, but did not bother to correct the mage. He was, after all, human.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter XIII

The messengers' must have spread quickly; Aguilar was bustling with activity. Shopkeepers were boarding up windows and safeguarding various stores before the impending storm arrived, while families were being escorted along as the city was evacuating. Dhark stepped off the ship onto the piers, watching everything with careful eyes.

"They're scared."

He looked back over his shoulder and smiled some as Seiver rested a hand on his back, though it very well could have been more for support than a familiar gesture. His brother was, while back on his feet, still weak. Even the scales that used to shine silver seemed dull.

"Let them be. It could very well be the key that allows them to survive." Seiver coughed and started down the wooden pier.

Dhark, frowning slightly as he watched, followed after to keep a close eye on his brother. "You look well. I see you're wearing your sword again."

Seiver glanced down to the blade sheathed at his side. "Aye. Don't feel right without the shield, though."

"It was found in the boat, Dra'keth cleaved it in two. We don't have the material nor forge to mend it."

Seiver laughed and shook his head slowly. "Find me a knight who wouldn't be proud of the fact his shield was shattered defending others."

Dhark glanced back at the ship. "Wrayne moved on ahead with Myriad, the two are moving with Lord Greymane, Sir Edward, and Admiral Perrin to speak with the local regency. Flyre and Cyrius will be joining us once they're through helping with the ship."

"And you?" Seiver glanced back over his shoulder, smirking.

"I am here to keep an eye on you." He clapped Seiver lightly on the back before turning his attention, again, to the activity taking place in the town. "Looks as though most of the shops are already boarded up."

Seiver nodded slowly. Even now, the streets were starting to empty as the masses moved on their way under the watchful eyes of the local militia. To the north, the skies were dark with smoke which rolled ominously along, marking the advancing armies.

"They will have to slow for supplies soon. The initial advance was too fast for them to establish proper lines."

Dhark turned his gaze away from the dark clouds. "I suppose so. The original plan was to break the humans' will to resist; part of me fears that they may have done just that."

"Hardly. Look at Northshore. What happened there was not a breaking of will, but rather defiance and inability to accept defeat. The humans are stronger than you give them credit for."

The smile that crept across Seiver's face was disturbing in just how tranquil it was. "Are you certain you're alright, brother?"

"Dhark, I'm well enough." Seiver started down one of the streets leading towards the edge of town. "So, what is the plan from here?"

"We've decided to stay with the humans, for now. Xodius will be doing the same. We'll meet up with the alliance leaders in a city to the east where the counter assault will, hopefully, begin."

"Xodius is still here?"

Dhark frowned and looked around. It was true, the demon had vanished. "He is, yes. Somewhere. I can't be too certain just what he is doing, though. Perhaps he went with Wrayne."

"Perhaps." Seiver chuckled softly and shook his head. "I can't help but think he has some other goal in mind, though. He has been a tremendous ally, but I am not all too certain just how long that alliance will last."

Dhark frowned and gave Seiver a curious look. "Do you know something we don't?"

"No."

Seiver smiled again, and again Dhark found it disturbing. "Are you certain you are alright?"

"Yes, I am, I assure you."

Dhark nodded slowly, trying to more reassure himself that his brother's words were sincere. "If you insist." He paused, stooping to scoop some dirt into his hands. "The soil here is healthy. If the horizon was clear, you would never know the destruction due to come."

"I'll never know just what crazy thoughts go through the heads of druids." Seiver glanced down at the ground. "Soil that talks to you," he snorted.

"Nature has a way of speaking, but it's a quiet voice that takes time to hear." Dhark let the dirt sift through his fingers as a rogue wind picked up. He frowned, watching a hanging sign on a shop front swing violently. "This wind is not normal."

Seiver slowed his step and gave his brother a critical look. "Again, you druids and nature."

Dhark nodded. "Aye, us druids." He knelt, placing his hand flat on the ground. "Something is coming, through unnatural means."

Seiver rested a hand on the hilt of his sword instinctively as he took a careful look around him. "How do you mean?"

"Nature flows in a very structured way. While it can be chaotic, nothing is without reason. There is a strong balance that nature strives to keep. Right now, however, that balance has been disturbed by another flow of energy." Dhark frowned and stood, glancing back towards the ship.

"Nature's not telling you just what it is?"

"No. Not directly. This happens when magic is used to alter the state of reality. Warlocks, mages, even a priest can all impact nature like this. However, this is on a scale I've not felt before."

The wind ceased suddenly, a deathly calm settling over the scene. The building owning the sign that had been swinging before cracked, almost like a mirror being struck by stone. The silence held for a brief moment longer before stone and brick exploded outward. Dhark, almost instinctively, threw up a shield that deflected the debris from Seiver while the rest struck him hard in the face and chest. As the dust cleared, he took a quick look at Seiver to make sure everything was fine before looking over himself. Aside from a few cracked scales that allowed blood to seep, he was fine. His eyes turned to the shop. The walls had been blown out to near the foundation, pieces of bread and other baked goods were scattered with the debris. In the middle of the shop, its nexus a coalescing flow of arcane energy, was not just a window as a gateway which linked the small port city of Aguilar with the cold, foreboding interior of M'alketh.

"Go get Flyre and Cyrius. If you can, send a runner out to warn Wrayne and the others." Dhark took a step back before frowning when Seiver refused to move. "Seiver, go!"

"You should, Dhark. You can move faster. There are few guarantees I would even make it on time."

Dhark growled and watched the gateway that was slowly starting to stabilize. "I will not ask you again."

The sound of steel burying itself into dirt caught Dhark's ear and he turned to look. Seiver was standing, leaning heavily against the hilt of his sword as he shook his head.

"Dhark, go. The others look to you as a leader; there is no reason to deprive them of that now." Seiver smirked. "I'll be fine."

It was true, and Dhark had a hard time trying to figure a way to convince Seiver otherwise. Finally, all he could do was just nod and turn. Breaking into a sprint, he started for the ship. The gateway would take a while to stabilize, there was still time. Perhaps even Flyre could counter the rift before whatever Dra'keth had in store could come through.

Flyre was on the main deck of the ship when he made his way up the brow. She gave him a curious look and handed the line she was working with over to one of the deckhands. He paused to catch his breath before pointing to where he had left Seiver.

"M'alketh's mages are opening a gateway. Where's Cyrius?"

"He's down below," Flyre growled softly. "Don't they take a break?"

Dhark shook his head as he started for the ladder well. "I'll get Cyrius. Seiver's back there, waiting. Go help him. I'll join you both shortly."

Flyre sighed but nodded before starting down the narrow plank that bridged the ship's quarterdeck with the pier. Dhark watched with a concerned frown etched on his face. She was quick, and again there was that hope that perhaps she could counter the flow of arcane energy enough to dispel the gateway before it even opened. Flyre was out of sight, and he stepped below to find Cyrius.

The ship was small enough, and in the days they sailed along he had enough time to familiarize himself with the various nooks and crannies that someone like Cyrius could hide in. As it was, the assassin was dozing in a darker corner of the berthing area. Dhark gave him a quick kick to the leg to wake him.

"Wha!" Cyruis jumped to his feet. "I swear, they told me I was just in the way." He caught the look Dhark gave him. "Something's wrong."

"Yes. Go find Wrayne and the others that are with him. Warn them all, M'alketh is opening a gateway in Aguilar, most likely in preparation of some invasion or another. Seiver and Flyre are already there. I'll be going back to assist. Unless we can stop the gate before it opens, we will need as much help as we can get."

Cyrius nodded slowly before kneeling to reach beneath one of the bunks for his daggers. "Go, then. I'll do what I can."

"What do you mean, do what you can." Dhark furrowed his brow before starting for the ladder well. "All you're doing is getting help."

Cyrius laughed. "Hardly, druid." He drew one of the daggers and licked the blade. "Nice and sharp, they beg for blood. I've a score to settle with these guys, for Wraith."

Dhark growled and shook his head. "No time for vendettas this time. At a later point in time, perhaps. You're faster on your feet, get to Wrayne and the others. Bring back help."

Cyrius snorted and nodded, sheathing his blade. "Fine. Next time, though, I will have my blood."

Dhark watched the assassin slink off before starting up the ladder himself. Once on the main deck, he saw Cyrius vanish down the road, a testament to how swift the guy could be, and again started sprinting towards the gateway. Not too much time had passed, the gate might still be closed.

Seiver had his eyes closed as he leaned against his blade, his mind focused on the slow rhythm of his own breathing. It hurt, his whole body ached the longer he rested. A nagging guilt lingered in the back of his mind for lying to Dhark. Even though Myriad and Dhark had tried; had done a fantastic job no less, of trying to return his health, but he knew the truth. Dra'keth was ruthless in his attack. When the shield was cleaved in two, he had felt something rip through him. It was nothing physical, but a piece of his very soul had been torn asunder. While sleeping, he had even seen what some might call the dark gates of death itself. Truth of it all was that he wanted to go back. The druid and priest had revived him, but he wanted to go back to the place where the pain he was feeling was nothing more than a memory.

Something sparked, light flashing bright enough to be seen through his eyelids. He opened his eyes and watched as the gateway stabilized itself out, the arcane bridge between M'alketh and Aguilar complete. He took in a slow breath as he watched two figures on the other side step through, a smirk showing as he shook his head. One, perhaps a slight bit taller than the other, wreaked of arcane magic. It was the shorter of the two that caused him to shudder. Carried with him, almost like a dark aura, was the strong stench of death. Seiver let his gaze lock with the darker one.

"Only two of you? I'm disappointed." He tugged his blade free of the ground and brought it up to rest flat on his shoulder, grunting softly as a sharp pain shot through his body. "So, shall we introduce one another, or just cut straight to the fight?"

The mage laughed and shook his head, stepping around the one smelling of death. "Thrax, take care of this traitor for us. I'll see to the others."

Seiver frowned as he watched the mage start to leave, lifting his blade to level its tip at the departing Dra'keth's throat. "Not so fast, stranger. Who are you two and why is this gate here?"

The one called Thrax hissed and drew a wickedly curved blade, leveling it at Seiver menacingly in response to the sword. "Never wise for a dead creature to ask questions. Look at him, Coelu, he can't even hold that blade steady."

A low growl rose in Seiver's throat as he looked from Thrax to his sword. It was true; his muscles were straining to keep the tip level, the sword itself shaking with his arm. "Doesn't mean I can't use it. I'll tear you both down."

Coelu laughed and shook his head again, making a deft motion with his hand before turning to walk away. "Kill him, Thrax. Now. I have very little time for nuisances."

"Of course, Sir."

Seiver stepped back and spun around, bringing his sword about in time to parry the dagger before it could find purchase. It did little for him, however, as Thrax pressed the flat of his palm towards him, sending a wall of black energy his way. The blast left him sprawling, his sword clattering off to the side and out of reach. He rolled to reach for the pommel, but a sudden wave of pain exploded from his shoulder as Thrax's dagger bit into him. Seiver balled his fists and struck blindly at the weight pressing against him, shoving away and rolling to get back to his feet.

Thrax was already standing, bloodied dagger in his hand as he stared coldly at the knight. "It would be best to simply accept your fate."

Seiver snorted, walking towards his sword to pick it up, wincing at the sharp pain in his shoulder. "Why would I do that?" He hefted his blade onto his shoulder, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood to avoid cringing in pain again. "I would so enjoy taking someone with me."

Fire exploded around him, tossing him forward and again sprawling onto the ground as his sword clattered out of reach again. The smell of burning flesh stung his nose as he rolled to see the source, only to find Coelu's cold smirk aimed at him. The mage winked, adding insult to the injury, before he turned to take his leave. Seiver struggled to push himself to his feet, fighting off the pain that radiated through him, threatening to cripple him. Stumbling forward, he retrieved his sword and buried the blade into the ground, leaning against it.

"Feeling the pain, traitor?" Thrax picked at some dirt beneath a nail with the tip of his dagger as he sauntered towards Seiver. "I'm sure Coelu meant well, think of it all as a parting gift."

"Only one thing out there I'd consider a gift. Thrax, was it? So, what does Dra'keth have you doing for him, eh?"

"Ah." Thrax smirked and brought his hand up, dark flames erupting forth. "I am his necromancer, the final solution to the threat posed by you and your traitorous companions."

"Traitorous? I prefer to be called free." Seiver spit bile off to the side and rested his sword on his shoulder, planting his feet firmly on the ground. "Why's he hunting us?"

Thrax shrugged faintly. "He fears you all. Honestly, though, there are others he needs to fear, more ambitious and powerful threats to his regime."

"I only assume you mean yourself. You're arrogant, might kill you some day."

Seiver tensed and sprang, gripping the sword resting on his shoulder with both hands as he threw his weight into a powerful strike. It was not exactly surprising, but powerful all the same, and even though Thrax threw the dagger up to counter, the strength behind the sword easily crashed through the weak barrier. Steel bit into flesh and the necromancer howled as the shoulder of his robes were instantly soaked in blood. The wound, however, was far from fatal, merely incapacitating, and he reset his grip on the dagger to thrust the blade towards Seiver's gut.

Flyre was in a dead sprint when Coelu stepped around the corner onto the pier. She slid to a stop and almost immediately called a fireball forth, holding the swirling flames in her hand as she narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, the old master magi, it seems like so long ago since our paths last crossed."

"I never was in the habit of visiting former students, Coelu. Now, will I have to cut you down, or will you step aside?"

Coelu quirked the brow over his left eye and shook his head. "Not today."

Flyre released the fireball just as Coelu set a shield of fire in front of him. Flame met flame and the explosion that resulted was nothing short of spectacular, scorching the pier and surrounding fish stands in the process. Almost immediately, she had another ball of fire charging in her hand while Coelu, his fire shield destroyed, was drawing up another barrier.

"Think you can hide behind shields all day, Coelu?" Flyre smirked and let a second fireball well up in her free hand. "Where's Seiver?"

"Oh, him?" Coelu shook his head. "Should be dead by now. I expect you'll be joining him shortly."

Fire erupted along the pier, timber instantly incinerated as the pier was torn asunder. Charred splinters flew about and in the midst of the fiery hurricane, a lance of pure arcane energy speared towards Flyre. She ducked to the side, the lancelet grazing her arm and drawing a thin line of blood. Shaking off the pain, she countered with a funnel of fire that radiated outward in a wide cone in front of her. Coelu screamed behind the wall of fire.

"Too hot for you, Coelu?"

There was silence and, briefly, Flyre smirked. Her triumph was short lived, though, and something thudded into her stomach. Dull pain slowly spread through her body as she slowly sank down to her knees, blood already pooling around her. She gazed down to see what the mage had used, confusion spreading on her face. It was not something she would have expected. The magic she had once schooled encompassed frost, fire, and the harnessing of arcane forces flowing within nature. What she saw was a thin-bladed dagger, electricity crackling about its hilt. She looked up and saw Coelu, arms clasped behind his back as he smirked at her.

"It's something new, Magi. Dra'keth was kind enough to teach us a few new tricks, feeling that you might not be properly prepared to counter them as you might other schools of magic. Of course, it is not my specialty, but can be useful all the same."

She coughed, blood spilling from the corner of her mouth as she felt her body starting to numb. "Where's Seiver?"

Footsteps sounded from behind Coelu and she had to fight to focus her eyes on the approaching Drek'kan. Black scales; not Seiver. She fell backwards and closed her eyes, her mind travelling along the rivers of arcane energy until they found the whirling vortex of the gate. It was a soft muttering, something perhaps not even heard by the two standing over her. Energy crashed and the spinning vortex began to collapse inward on itself, the gateway rather suddenly disappearing in a colorful mist. Another spike was sent along the ley line used to carry the gateway, rupturing the flow of arcane energy that allowed the bridge to be formed. She smiled, even as the colors slowly began to fade and become replaced by darkness.

Then, in the midst of the darkness, she heard a voice calling her back; forcing the soul that was so eager to leave back into the broken shell of her body. Her eyes slowly opened to find Thrax and Coelu smirking down at her.

"Welcome back, dear," Thrax half-whispered to her, "how does it feel to be my puppet?"

Dhark took in the battlefield as he clenched his hands into fists, talons digging into the palms of his hand. The street and pieces of the pier were destroyed, scorched by fire and magic, with an unsettling pool of blood still fresh on one area. He took a good look around, calling Flyre's name, though no sign of her, nor Seiver, could be found. Moving on, he rounded the corner and went on to the spot the Gateway had been open. There was nothing there, now. He knelt and let his fingers touch another pool of blood that was staining the dirt.

"Well, at least we accomplished this much." He closed his eyes and listened. There were bugs droning in the distance, the surf was crashing along the beach, and the smell of death hung heavy in the air. "So, that was the cost, then?"

Leather wings beat the air nearby and he opened his eyes in time to see Xodius drop from the sky, landing nearby. Cyrius was not too far after, almost out of breath from running hard. Dhark stood and gave them both a slight shake of the head.

_Where are Seiver and Flyre?_

"I don't know. Can't you tell?"

_No. I feel nothing from them both._

Cyrius knelt down and ran his fingers along the blood soaked dirt. "This is thicker than human blood, belongs to a Drek'kan." He smelled his fingers. "Has Seiver's scent, too."

Dhark nodded slowly and sighed. "I know as much, or feared as much at least. Cyrius, you are the hunter among us, could you please go to the next street down and check the blood there?"

Cyrius froze. "You think that is-"

"Yes." Dhark let out a slow breath as he looked to Xodius. "Can you find out if anyone came through that gateway?"

_There is nothing new here. I cannot find any trace of Flyre, though, or Seiver. Both, I fear, are dead. However, I do smell something, a portal opened recently. I can try to trace where it leads._

Dhark sighed and nodded. "Please."

Both Xodius and Dhark watched as Cyrius departed to check the battle site near the pier.

_Are you going to be alright, Dhark? I know what she meant to you._

"It was mostly unrealized, I suppose. Maybe this was for the better."

_It could never have been for the better. It was purely unfortunate, and tragic at that. I assure you, she felt the same way._

"I know."

_What do you need?_

"I need time," Dhark stood and turned to walk out of the town, "alone. You know how to reach me if you need me. I'll be in the forest."

Xodius watched Dhark trudge off towards the edge of town, shutting off the link he had kept so open with the Druid's own mind. It was too painful to listen to the thoughts that were so vividly carried by Dhark. Even Cyrius', once the blood was indeed found to be Flyre's own. He closed his eyes and relaxed down on the ground with a heavy sigh as Wrayne and Myriad ran up on the scene. He let them both take a look around telling them both about Seiver and Flyre.

End Part II


	15. Chapter 15

Part III

Chapter XIV

"We have to move on, Xodius." Edward was frowning. News had finally reached the ship, and the crew. "I understand that Dhark is in mourning, but we do not have time to spare. If they can open a gate here, what is keeping them from doing it again?" The knight frowned as he looked around the ship, dodging the moving cargo as he tried to find the demon.

_The ley line has been destroyed._ Xodius looked down at the scene from where he was perched, motionless on the top of the ship's mainmast. _Dhark…will not be joining us if we depart now._

"How do you know the…what did you call it? The line, how do you know it's destroyed?" Edward finally spied the demon's perch and fixated his gaze, as though that made any difference.

"Flyre…destroyed it before she died."

Edward near jumped at the sudden voice behind him, barely able to keep his composure. "Wrayne."

"Edward." Wrayne clapped the human on the shoulder, forcing a smile. "We are ready. Cyrius will be staying behind to find Dhark and bring him back. Myriad and I will accompany you to visit with the leadership of the alliance."

Edward looked less than pleased. "I understand he's upset, I would be upset-"

"He," Wrayne growled, unable to help but curl his lip slightly, "lost someone terribly dear to him."

"I lost my Kingdom, Wrayne! What is one person next to so many?"

"Everything." Wrayne started across the deck, pausing a few steps along the way. "And nothing, I suppose. It would depend on who you ask."

"My brother died in Ashland…he was in the Keep when it was overrun."

_Nobody died in the Keep, not even your brother, Edward._

Wrayne and Edward both turned their gaze towards the demon crouched atop the mast. Wrayne simply smirked while heading, again, for the stairs leading below. Edward, though, looked far from convinced as he clenched his fist and shook his head.

"How would you know?"

_Because, I sent them away._ Xodius stepped off the mast, wings spreading to glide him down to the deck. _To spare them from the advancing army, I sent them all away. It was no simple task, mind you._

"Where are they, then?"

_When we reach our goal, you will find a small group waiting for you. Your brother is quite the loyal follower, Edward. You would be proud._

"All this power, and you still let others die? What the hell are you?"

_I do not decide when someone's time has come._

"And what about Al? If he was in that keep then he should have died."

_It was not his time._

Edward slammed his fist down on the ship's railing, causing a few of the ship's crew nearby to give him a wary stare. "Not to sound ungrateful, if my brother is alive that is, but who decides when someone's time has come?"

_We will depart soon. Those I travel with will be prepared; I expect those you travel with will be as well._

Edward frowned as he turned away from the demon, cutting across the deck to the quarterdeck. "Those you travel with should not spread themselves so thin. That is why two are dead."

Xodius growled softly, a soft thunder overhead catching his attention. He turned his eyes skyward and watched the black billowing storm clouds appearing amidst a blue sky. A few of the deckhands muttered, steeped in their own superstitions and distrust of foul weather, but he saw it for what it truly was. _Admiral, you may wish to prepare for storms. We will not be dry tonight, however…I do not envy M'alketh the wrath it will bear witness to when this storm reaches its full strength._ From someplace unseen belowdecks, he heard the response and couldn't help but chuckle. _Yes, the druid. Cyrius, I should not have to tell you to be wary about standing beneath a tree, should I?_ Another chuckle. The assassin had done well in developing a faint bit of humor about him, even if the jokes were shared sparingly.

Still, there was Edward. Xodius let his eyes focus back on the Knight, the one who was there when everything started. So much about the man had changed in so short a time. He once stood with regal pride beside his King, a loyal follower and devoted protector. Now, he sat hunched on the main deck of a ship, chipping the wood with irritated prods from his sword as the look of vengeance burned in his eyes. There would be time to address the matters that plagued the knight later, though. For now, there was work to be done.

Xodius left the crowded deck of the ship and instead sought the quiet street that ran along the piers. Normally, this place would have been full of activity as fishermen traded their daily catch for a living. Now, though, with the message of war spreading, the port town was desolate. Humans had a strange mind sometimes. They adored their individual selves, the ability to survive and thrive alone. Tell a man he can surpass any challenge with either the aid of one, or risk failure by himself, he would take the risk of performing alone.

Yet in their darkest hour, with the threat of doom hanging over their shoulders, humanity forgot its individual selves and sought the company of others. Comfort and safety in numbers was the underlying thought. They were, at times, more like pack animals than they cared to admit.

_And somehow, I am here in the middle of this war…_

The scrape of his claws against the cobbled road slowed as he neared where they had found Flyre's blood. No body. Dra'keth was undoubtedly pursuing a new tactic, but beyond a sharp blow to morale, the theft of a body simply deepened the grief before, at times, instilling rage. Xodius had seen battles where a handful of men charged into a thousand to retrieve the head of a fallen leader or comrade, and some even succeeding while instilling a very great amount of fear in the hearts of their enemies.

Again, humans were such strange things.

But Dra'keth was a mystery, and the blood smelled of a magic so foul and dark it could have never belonged to the mage that Dhark held so dear. Rain began to fall, the sound soft as a few, sporadic drops of water struck his hide and the pier around him.

_This was all your idea, you know._ Xodius narrowed his eyes faintly as he growled. _You never told me he had gotten this far out of hand. I thought you kept better control over your children._ There was no answer, though the rolling of thunder in the distance reverberated through the air as the rain began to fall harder. He looked down at his feet and sighed as the water began to run off the wooden planks of the pier, taking with it the blood left behind. _And any traces of the good soul that was Flyre are washed away._

The wind began to pick up noticeably as the sky darkened further. Puddles of water began to form along the cobblestone road as Xodius started walking his way to where Seiver had fallen. _You cannot tell me that this is a case of the right hand not knowing what the left is doing. There is no possible way he is masking everything from you._ Thunder rolled in the distance. _Is he?_ He turned his eyes skyward, watching the black clouds churning overhead. He growled softly and shook his head. _I will refrain from asking any further questions, then._

Footsteps drawing closer behind him caught his attention and he hissed inwardly about not having noticed someone's arrival sooner. Turning, he found himself looking at a weary Myriad, robes soaked through from the heavy rainfall. She paused to wipe some of the rain water from her eyes and forced a faint smile.

"We're ready to go. Sir Edward is as well…but the others are going to stay behind with the ship."

Another rolling rumble travelled across the clouds above and both pairs of eyes followed the ominous sound.

_You do realize that this is only the beginning. There is so much more that will transpire before things are set right._

She sighed softly. "I do." The storm overhead began to grow more tumultuous as lightning stabbed across the sky.

_Even when we were first introduced, you were terribly honest with me. I hope that is still true now. Do you hope for an amiable outcome to all of this? Or have you surrendered to the darker side of reality?_

"I believe nothing is written in stone," she looked at her own hands, wiping them on the side of her robes as though trying to clean them, "but with all that has happened of late, it is hard not to only see the darker possibilities that await us."

_Unfortunately, things have been happening quickly. The pace set is not ours but rather that of our enemy's. I should at least say that we have, thus far, managed to not be destroyed entirely. Flyre managed to destroy the means with which Dra'keth was going to invade. That sacrifice alone could turn things in our favor._

Silence fell over them both, but the priestess did manage a faint nod that she understood.

_Come, we'll gather up those accompanying us and set out. The longer we remain here, the most we will accomplish is catching rain. I've already spoken with Cyrius, once Dhark is through dealing his vengeance, the two will catch up to us. It will be four of us, correct? Wrayne, yourself, Edward, and I?_

Myriad nodded slowly and watched the storm overhead for a moment longer before starting for the ship. "Aye, that it will."

Xodius watched her leave, spreading his wings and listening to the rain pattering off the thin, tattered leather membranes. It was so different from the spray of the ocean. _You know, these will be the things I miss when I leave._ He closed his eyes, contenting himself to simply relax under the torrent of water before starting after Myriad.

Back at the ship, things were moving with a cold efficiency born of training. Deckhands were swarming the rigging, lashing down the sails and stray lines to prevent them from doing any damage to either the ship, themselves, or the sailors onboard. Xodius thought he heard a bell chime the hour, but the cacophony of the rain pelting the ground alongside the rough surf as it pounded the pier was enough to drown out almost anything. On the main deck, Admiral Perrin was bellowing orders and threatening the storm nothing short of hell for interfering. The rain was crashing down in sheets, he actually had to strain to catch sight of the crow's nest atop the main-mast through the falling water.

"Xodius!"

Eyes turned towards Greymane as the Lord made his way down the plank ramping the ship to the docks. The demon sat himself down on the docks, waiting for the human to approach before speaking. _You are certain you wish to remain here?_

Greymane nodded slowly. "Aye... there is nothing for me on the road ahead. I am going to remain. Edward will travel with you, but beyond that...it is your group alone. Besides, these are my people. I belong with them."

_That is disappointing to hear. I believe I can understand, however. I wish you the best, the Admiral as well._

"So...how do you believe this will all end?"

_The knowledge is not mine to divulge. There are far too many possible outcomes to this war that anything beyond the most obvious are unknown to me._

Greymane said something, but the howl of the wind was enough to drown out everything. The human grumbled softly before repeating himself, this time at a shout. "You've seemed troubled of late, is there something you know that we don't? Perhaps even something we should be aware of?"

_My troubles and worries are no different than your own! There is nothing I know that will bring swift resolution to this conflict._

Greymane looked skeptical and made little effort to hide it. "Is that so. What about resolution, regardless of how swift?"

_Fight. Win. Need I say more?_ Xodius let out a slow sigh. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Wrayne, Myriad, and Edward waiting for him on the docks. _I must take my leave. I imagine this storm will pass quickly, Dhark's wrath will direct it northward._

"We'll watch your back from here. Should Dra'keth attempt to push through, we will hold them at bay as best we can. Some of our other ships will be finding their way to this port, or at least ports nearby where our scouts can find them."

_Your efforts are appreciated. Survive, if you can._ Xodius offered the Lord a light bow, a gesture which the Lord's pride did not prevent from being returned. Giving the three gathered at the end of the docks a good look, he frowned inwardly. They were tired, all of them, and it showed all too clearly in their expressions. _We've a rather long trek ahead of us. From the charts I was able to study, we should be at the summit inside of a week. Edward, it is your pace that will decide how swiftly we travel. Wrayne, Myriad, and myself are capable of travelling days without sleep. Humans are limited, but resilient. Please speak up if you need us to slow or rest._

Edward seemed hurt at the notion, but nodded his understanding. "Of course."

_On our way out of Aguilar, we will visit one of the shops for supplies. I am certain not everything has been taken. When people flee in a hurry, they only take what they can carry._

"What about Cyrius and Dhark?"

_I have been talking with Cyrius. Dhark is preoccupied with his work._ A flash of lightning lanced the sky, as though on cue. _The two will follow behind, they should arrive not long after us, and since the two are able to move swiftly they may even catch up to us._

Edward had to squint as a gust of wind blew the rain into his face. "I'm going to start checking the shops. I need to get out of this weather."

Xodius watched the knight walk off, hearing the sound of a door being broken through shortly after. _You are all quiet this morning._

"I don't believe we know just what to think," Myriad spoke up. "Here, we've lost another brother, and a sister. I know I feel pain, but numbing to the point that I just can't get my mind to focus."

_I see._ Xodius took a few steps towards the shop Edward stepped into. _These emotions are what separate you from the monsters Dra'keth commands. I cannot offer words to console you, not at this moment in time. But I can say that you are not the Drek'kan. Not anymore._

Again, silence. He could hear their thoughts, though, they were all gathering their thoughts. Even Dhark, churning the storm that had swelled beyond anything natural overhead, was simply trying to gather his own mind and bring it into focus. The storm was his anger, pure and unbridled.

"Thank you."

Xodius looked back towards Myriad and gave her a slight nod. _You are very welcome. Now then, we've a trek ahead of us. Edward is our greatest concern. I will keep well in touch with Cyrius and Dhark. They will not be left behind._

Behind them, the sound of ships bells rang sharp amidst the stormy winds. Another of the vessels lucky enough to have escaped the onslaught to the north was arriving. The Admiral would have his hands full bellowing out orders. Overhead, the winds shifted their course, just enough to start pushing the storm slowly towards the north, carrying a peculiar rotation with it that managed to keep the strength from dissipating. M'alketh would be in for a hellacious night soon enough.

_And this, then, is the way of it?_ Xodius turned his gaze skyward again. _They are all asking when it will end. Do you still not have an answer for them?_

The wind blew stronger, but there was no answer.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter XV

"You let them escape." Dra'keth glowered at the two kneeling before him. Well, one kneeling. Thrax was halfway down, his hand holding the bandaging hastily pressed to his wounded shoulder. "That a thrice dead whelpling could wound you, Thrax, is disturbing enough. But that you killed only two…and one of which you never found the body for," the big dragon grumbled softly. "But, I see not all is for loss. You've brought back a pet."

The Dragonlord shifted his gaze to the figure hunched against a wall. What used to be gloriously emerald green scales had paled significantly, the luster long lost. Even the tattered robes seemed to have lost all of their color. "My dear, dear Flyre. You've returned to us. Quite a bit of torment you've caused along the way." He lowered his head down to bring himself to eye-level with her. Even her gaze, once hawklike and keen, was dimmed. The fog of death coated the iris. "What did they do to you, my child?"

"Pardon her silence, m'lord," Thrax stood, staggering as he almost lost hold of the bandages on his shoulder. "I was unable to keep her voice in death. Indeed, she is nothing more than a shell, a puppet to my will to do with as-"

The sound of stone yielding to claws echoed in the chamber as Dra'keth turned to bear his gaze down on the necromancer. "That you would think to refer to my children in such a manner, even if they are your enemy, is appalling." He gave Flyre another brief glance. "She is dead. I suppose that is the finality of it all. The soul that once burned in her eyes is gone." He snorted, a tongue of flame curling from his snout. "Do with it what you will."

"Of course, M'lord."

The dragon made his way back to the center of the chambers and settled himself down, giving both Coelu and Thrax a careful look. "Now then, the next step in our path to conquest. The humans have proven to be troublesome, but yielding to our might. We have secured several key locations that will aid us in annihilating them, but there is a stronger threat we need to consider."

The dust in the chamber began to glow and rise, taking shape of mountains and valleys as a map formed before them, as detailed as might be seen from a crow on the wing. They could see the fires from the camps burning, the cities that had been laid to ruin, and the swarms of the dark armies advancing.

"Chrissayel is where the humans plan to base their futile resistance. Based on the information pulled from Northshore, the valleys they will defend against our advances will be easy to circumvent." Dra'keth waved a hand, dissolving the map and bringing another into focus. "With Northshore ours, we can pursue a different approach. Assimilate what is left of the human armada along the coast and utilize their ships to transport our numbers further south than their defenses allow for. A diversionary force can easily hold their eyes north while a strike force destroys them from behind."

Coelu gave the map a quick look over and snorted. "The humans were terrible in that they burned almost any ship they could not take with. What we have left is nothing short of a small fishing boat and half a warship. The other half sits at the bottom of Northshore bay."

"You know this for fact?" Dra'keth hissed. "Then, we will send one boat, the fishing boat, and with it goes a mage to open the gateway so our armies can pour through. Coelu, that will be you. Thrax will remain here, with me, to deal with our other problem." The map shifted, this time to the outskirts of Aguilar. "This concerns me, Thrax. The reason I wished you had been successful in destroying them all."

Nothing of the forest could be seen through the stormclouds. Dra'keth lowered the map closer to the ground and heard one of his Lieutenants gasp, most likely Coelu. Trees were being torn from their roots and splintered as wind and rain both collided into them. Debris was thrown with as much lethality as an iron arrow might have, they even watched as a tree branch crashed into rock, reducing both to dust. As the map scrolled to the center of the massive storm, it was Thrax who cursed under his breath. A druid and assassin, both very known to them, stood unperturbed by the winds and rain, watching with grim satisfaction at the slow rolling front that was being sent towards M'alketh.

"This, my pet," Dra'keth hissed softly, "is why we do not take these traitors lightly. Find a way, Thrax, to destroy this thorn in my side. Of all, it was Lycius' druid I feared the most. His power is, as you can see, not as limited as we would like to think. Given a chance he could destroy us all. I wish Lycius had destroyed him when I requested, but against better judgment I allowed it to live."

Thrax took a moment to respond, slowly unclenching his fist and hiding the pang of jealousy that had begun to bloom. "I will see to it he is thoroughly destroyed."

"No puppets this time," the Dragonlord warned.

"Of course, I would not dream of such things."

With most of the Dragonlord's forces marching, the halls of M'alketh were desolate as Thrax and Coelu, trailed by Flyre, A few humans were met along the tunnels leading to the lower catacombs, but they were all novice classes, lacking the true training and discipline to be on the battlefield where the skills they were learning would truly be applied. Most opted wisely to cower away from the two.

"He is going to lead us all to slaughter, you know."

Coelu let his gaze flicker briefly to the necromancer beside him. "Perhaps."

"You're a fool if you agree to allow this to happen without challenging it."

A soft laughter echoed off the stone walls as Coelu shook his head. "I am no fool. Rest assured there is more going on in my mind than I would care to make known to even yourself." They stopped at a stairwell and followed it down. "Dra'keth has his own agenda beyond simple conquest. I've yet to figure it out, but there is something there. You can see it in his eyes. When he speaks of conquest, there is no interest in his gaze. He's more worried about the traitors than ruling these lands."

Stepping out into the very chambers Lycius had once used for his summoning, the two fell silent. The vault was abnormally cold, even with torches burning along the entire perimeter, there was no heat. Coelu shuddered involuntarily and finally conjured a plume of fire in the middle of the chambers, bringing heat and chasing away the shadows.

"So, brother, care to share what it is you know?" Thrax moved as close to the plume of fire as he dared, savoring the heat. "Or am I to be kept in the dark as well?"

"You've been far to absorbed in your projects to catch on, Thrax," Coelu nodded slightly towards Flyre, who was hunkered against the wall furthest from them. "Do you honestly believe she listens to everything you tell her to do? I look and watch, and I see someone forced against their will. Not a puppet that responds without question."

Thrax glowered at his pet. "That is my concern, not yours. I do not tell you that your own magic is weak, do I?"

Coelu laughed softly and reached over, tapping the necromancer's shoulder. "You were the only injury to be inflicted by our adversaries. However, it is not a petty squabble I am after. Perhaps if your eyes were as keen as your ego, you might notice that our Master is after another goal. There is something he's searching for, but it's a puzzle I've yet to piece together."

Silence filled the chamber and neither of the two Drek'kan sought to be the first to speak out. The conversation had taken a turn that bordered traitorous, and they both knew it. Dangerous territory had been tread upon, and much like crossing a frozen lake, there was a point where one either decided to press on, or turn back while safety still permitted itself.

Thrax spoke first. "That is not our concern. Dra'keth's ambitions are his own. Our task is to eliminate his enemies before they find a means to disrupt his achieving whatever goal he sets his eyes upon."

Coelu chuckled softly. "A safe answer, I see. Well, at least I know where you stand." He looked towards Flyre and snorted. "So, with that said, what is your grand plan for this one?"

"The druid remains our biggest concern. The threat posed by both his leadership within the rebel Drek'kan group, and the vast amount of power at his disposal should it ever awaken within him could spell disaster. She is the key to destroying him, and with his death I believe we can bring the rogues to their knees begging for mercy, or surrendering. If you wish to kill a snake, you sever the head. This is no different.

"What I plan with her," Thrax glowered at Flyre, "is simple. She is, or was rather, a pyromancer. One of the spells I have studied causes a rupture in the arcane torrents that mages utilize for their spells, forcing a massive amount of energy to erupt outwards and devastate anything within a certain radius, that radius of course dependant fully on the strength of the mage. The more they are able to withstand stored within their person, the more can be forced and used for the explosion."

Coelu hissed and even took a step back from the other. "I trust you have not considered using this on me?"

"Ah, unless you were in her state, as my puppet, I would not be able to do much. You see, I cannot manipulate that torrent without your allowing me to do so. You would be, by all means, safe."

"So," Coelu paused and took a few steps towards Flyre, as if seeing the other mage in a new light, "you have essentially turned her into a weapon. Interesting. How do you plan on getting her near the others, though? They know she is dead, there is no denying that simple fact."

"The druid is in love with her. If he knows she still walks this earth, he will find her. The feelings he carries for her will be his undoing. The opportunity will present itself when we can bait him into the trap, and then I will destroy him."

"I may have underestimated you, my dark friend. If you can do as you claim, then I will be truly impressed. There is only one small detail that still bothers me. Flyre was not the only one we killed, what happened to the other one?"

"Him? Seiver was the name." Thrax frowned, it was something he had dismissed as perhaps a strange after-effect brought about by the dabbling in holy magic Seiver had done. "I have not been able to speak with any of the Knights within Seiver's order, and I will not be the first to tell Dra'keth that his former Knight simply vanished when he was slain. There is nothing quite as unsettling as never knowing just what may have happened to a fallen foe. What I do know, though, is that flash…the light that surrounded him when he fell, burned the very soul of my own magic. It is the very reason I refuse to allow a priest to touch me. The magic I practice does not mix with theirs."

Coelu gave Thrax's shoulder a look and snorted softly. "That wound will be the death of you if you are not careful."

"I will sit down with my spellbooks. There are dark mending encantations I can use, I simply need to ensure I have the words and glyphs correct before invoking them. I would think it to be very inconvenient to destroy myself by uttering a word incorrectly."

The mage laughed and shook his head. "Ah, the pains of dabbling in a new form of magic. Rather different than the act of drawing demons from the Void and binding them, is it not?"

"Oh yes," Thrax narrowed his eyes and smirked. "But it is so much more fun." He turned towards Flyre and motioned her forward, smiling as she complied, even if there was still a look of indignation in her eyes. Stubborn, even in death. "You have heard what I propose to do. It is unfortunate you can do nothing to prevent it. What I need from you now, though, is a portal. We are going hunting. I know you destroyed the ley line we followed earlier, but there are others nearby that we can exploit to begin our fun."

Flyre hissed and started to clench her fists, but a slight, dismissing wave on the part of the necromancer froze her in place. Slowly, she nodded, her mind working against her will to begin tracing the rivers of arcane energy for a means to traverse the distance.

"Good girl. Coelu," Thrax started his way across the chamber to the stairwell leading back to the main catacombs, "watch her. Mind she does as she was told. I do not believe she will try anything truly troublesome, but if so…you have my leave to do with her as you will. I am going to see about my shoulder and will return."

Protest sprung up in Coelu's mind, but he stifled it and instead offered a slight nod of understanding. "Yes, of course."

He watched Thrax depart and settled himself down on the ground, legs crossed as he hunched forward to rest his arms on his knees. Flyre was already lost in the arcane rivers, tracing them from their origins to their ends. He had time, and silence, to search the very same rivers. He might not have a clue as to what he should be looking for, but for certain whatever it may be was either stronger than what could be considered normal, or was simply an anomaly that defied any description or explanation. In spite of Thrax's casual dismissal of the matter, Dra'keth's true ambitions still troubled him. He intended to find out what, if anything, the Dragonlord might be seeking, and what might be worth using a war on such a massive scale to mask the truth.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter XVI

It was the dagger. It had to be the dagger. There was no other way to truly explain the acute sense of perception that had allowed him to survive for so long, and against so many foes. Wraith looked at the blade in his hands. It glowed a strange, crimson hue that only seemed to grow brighter the more it tasted blood. A few hours had passed since he had slain one of the strange elf druids, their numbers were most certainly less than they had been before. They made killing easy, though. Most were ignorant that their foe might be hiding in the shadows, opting for a quick strike vice a toe to toe battle. They were driven to confusion easily, as well. One dropping dead amidst many stirred up almost riotous results, leading to hysteria and, as always, a few stragglers wandering away from the herd, easy throats for the slitting, easy blood for the blade to taste.

Now, the glow was dimming and the blade cried in his mind for more. It was hungry; needed to feed. He could hear bodies stirring in another hall halfway across the temple. The dagger, it had to be the dagger. His ears had never been so acute before.

_What are you waiting for? Find them. Kill them._

Wraith hissed and tightened his grip on the blade, taking a few steps towards a door that he knew without knowing would lead him to where the hapless elves could be found. The temple was no longer a maze, but more a simple network of halls and corridors that were so systematically placed he never, for a moment, thought he could be lost.

The dagger taught him the temple's design. How else could he have known?

_Hurry. They are in the old libraries, amidst the tomes turned to dust. They will leave soon, and the advantages the libraries offer will be lost._

It was true. Wraith gave the dagger a confused look as he moved towards the door, opening it only to pause on the threshold.

_Do not make me ask again! Feed me…you know what it is I crave._

"Why?" Wraith's voice startled him. It was a strange sound he had not heard in ages, it seemed. His mind struggled to focus on the sound, the notion that perhaps it was someone else talking formulating itself. "Who are you? You never told me."

_You know who I am, Wraith. It is a question I should not have to answer._

"Why?"

Silence. Wraith closed his eyes tightly, resting against the door's frame as he tried to collect his thoughts. In the back of his mind he knew it was all wrong. There was a lack of cohesion that was all too similar to the simple bloodlust that was so easy to set upon warriors in the battlefield. His thoughts became a haze, though. Images impossible to grasp as they flashed by with blinding speed. It was something that was all too familiar. He tried to make sense of it all; tried to understand the reasons behind the slaughter of the elves. Who were they? He could hardly remember where he knew them from. All he knew was that they were marked for death.

His grip on the dagger relaxed just enough to allow the weapon to slip free, the blade's sharp edge sliding across his palm before dropping to the ground with a solid thud. Not a clatter, as a piece of metal might when dropped on stone floor. This blade touched the ground once and stuck like a rock would when dropped in mud.

The dagger was glowing bright again. Wraith held up his palm and watched as the blood flowed from the wound, already leaving half of his palm coated as a few rivulets began to run down his wrist and arm. It was not a deep gash, something telling him that it bled more than it should have. There was no pain, though, only a strange numbness that was mirrored by an odd stupor as he watched the blood flow.

He knelt to retrieve the blade, gripping its comfortable contoured handle in his bloodied palm. It fit well, and the steel was warm. He brought the blade up to examine it, telling himself it was not to admire the strange blade but rather to check for damage, though he knew there would be none to find. The blade was never damaged.

His palm no longer bled. The wound was gone, nothing but the faint tracing of a thin scar remained. The blood was gone as well, and the blade's crimson glow was dazzling in its brightness. Wraith became aware of his surroundings once more. They had changed. He was now making his way down the hallway that led to the library's main entrance, hugging the shadows and moving without a sound.

Again, the question was asked by the voice in the back of his mind.

_You know who I am._

The response echoed in his mind as he cracked the door to the library open. There were three of them inside, he could smell them. Two were huddled near one another, moving from aisle to aisle between the massive shelves of dust. The tomes that once stood there were long since gone, decayed. There was the odd leather binding that remained to be found, but nothing of any true interest, and without the rest of the text utterly worthless.

The third elf was just inside the door, his back to where Wraith now stood as he waited eagerly for his two companions to finish their search. Anxiety and fear could be both seen and smelt as Wraith brought his hand around to stifle the elf's scream of pain as the blade buried itself into flesh, slipping between the ribs to find the softer internal organs before twisting, opening the wound beyond any possible recovery and tearing delicate tissue and other violently. The elf convulsed, blood erupting from his mouth and coating Wraith's hand in crimson foam.

The blade was satiated, but not pleased. It desired more.

Wraith left the body by the door, setting it down gently and silently before moving down the aisles, counting them silently. The other two were fourteen shelves down, the voice in his mind told him so. The voice always knew where the elves were hiding, just like it knew one would branch off to help expedite the search, fearing the isolation and simply desiring it all to be done with quickly.

This time, the elf saw him, but not before the blade bit deeply into his throat before being twisted harshly. Gurgling, the elf sank to its knees and toppled over. Wraith freed his blade, not bothering to wipe it clean. The blade cleaned itself. Another easy kill was finished, with a third waiting. The elves were simple prey, predictable. Wraith could hardly remember if they even carried weapons. He looked down at the dagger held in one hand, then to the other. There was a sword. He set the useless tool aside. The dagger was all he needed.

The third elf he found behind one of the shelves, its attention on something cradled in its arms. Wraith didn't care what it might have been, stepping in close and wrapping one arm around the elf's throat while the hand with the dagger circled around to drive itself into the elf's chest. There was a satisfying pop as the tip penetrated through the skin and in between ribs to bite into the heart. Blood flowed freely and the blade itself became hot to the touch. Wraith held on, knowing that the blade was pleased with its feast, satisfied.

He wrenched the blade free and looked over its keen edge, all traces of blood already gone from its glowing surface. It was beautiful. A work of art. The intricate runes and etchings were still lost to him. His mind no longer cared about their significance, though. In time, perhaps if it was so willed, he would understand. For now, though, the blade was content. He could be content as well.

_Look what we found!_

His eyes turned down to see what the elf had been cradling. A tome, covered in a fine layer of dust but otherwise undamaged by time. He knelt to retrieve it, opening blindly to a page. Strange symbols flooded his mind, cryptic etchings traced in the air with blood and glowing brightly. The magic was beyond his comprehension, though, and without meaning his mind was simply left to admire the dazzling colors and dancing runes in the air.

His eyes focused on the empty library, the images that flooded his mind gone as he turned to the tome again, thumbing through pages. More writing he could not comprehend, but knew to be magic.

_Learn these. These are important to know._

He closed the tome and tucked it under an arm. The elves were suddenly forgotten, the vast halls of the temple void of their presence. Even the scent of their lingering passage was gone. He stepped over the body at his feet, pausing as all he found was a dust and cobweb covered skeleton. Dead for decades and yet the blade still shone brightly with its satisfied hunger. He stared, dumbfounded, but soon found himself walking down the halls and corridors to a room he knew, but had not set foot in for a while.

Had it been a while? He tried to remember, but his mind refused to tell him just how long it had been since he had first started wandering the temple. He gripped the tome tightly in one hand, the dagger in the other, and walked towards the massive crystals that were sitting dormant in the center of the room.

_We will wake these up in time. But first, you must learn._

Clarity returned to his mind with a shocking suddenness and Wraith almost dropped both tome and dagger. "Wait!" He took a step back from the crystal, looking at the room with a cold trustless stare. "Answer my question. Why?!"

_You know why this must be done. I have told you many times the answers to all of your questions. However, those answers must remain hidden for now, lest the wrong powers try to use you for their own gain and thereby disrupt the balance of this world._

"What is happening to me?" Wraith dropped to his knees and set the tome fall from his hand, the thud of it settling on the ground barely registering in his mind. "What is going on here?"

_You are becoming something more than what you had once been._

"Why me?"

_You possess the needed skills required for the task ahead. Do not try to over complicate the issue, there is no reason to do so._

Wraith reached out to the nearest crystal, one of the three that orbited the main, resting his hand on the cool surface. It was cold, lifeless, and he could feel the warmth draining from his hand and arm, chilling him to the bone. This was a dark magic, something he was warned against meddling in by someone, a friend. No, more than a friend, a brother. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to remember. Thoughts were lost in his mind, fleeting glimpses of what should have been familiar, but was foreign and strange.

He clenched his fist and punched the surface of the crystal in frustration as he fought to break down the barriers that were closing off his mind, leaving him out of control of his own actions. The bloodshed he had been behind as the elves all died by his hands returned like a flood and he could suddenly remember every single kill. The shrieks of pain as blade tore flesh, the smell of blood as it was spilled on the temple grounds, soaking his hands.

He sat back on his heels and let out a howl of anguish as his mind battled to remember, something inside forcing him to forget. Shattered memories rushed through at a blinding pace as his howl echoed off the walls of the room.

Silence. Wraith found himself staring at the ceiling, panting as his scales parted slightly to allow for added ventilation to help disperse the heat. It was as though he had finished a several hundred forced march at a dead run in the blistering heat of summer. Yet the room, he could feel, was cold as ice. A chill had settled in that vaporized his breath in front of his eyes.

He reached beside him and picked up a tome. How long had it been sitting there? His mind searched for the answer, but found none. He shook off the daze and raised the dagger, looking over the patterns that decorated the hilt and blade. The time for blood had ended, now there was more that needed to be done that did not require bloodshed. He stood, stumbling and leaning against the crystal to help balance himself while his legs remembered how to work. Once the dizziness was gone, he stepped towards the center of the room; towards the main crystal around which the others all orbited.

Words, unknown to him, spilled from his mouth in a steady stream that grew louder the closer he drew to the crystal. Deep within the smoky rock, a light began to pulse, like a heartbeat, steadily growing stronger with each step, urging him forward, welcoming him with open arms. The pulsating glow soon began to carry a steady drumming with it, like a heartbeat, and Wraith felt the bloodlust settling in as his mind reminded him there was one more kill that needed to be done.

He raised the knife and a voice he did not recognize echoed off the stone walls of the room as he took a final step towards the central crystal, driving the dagger down with blinding speed and strength he did not even knew he possessed.

As blade bit rock, the crystal began to glow brighter as the dagger dimmed. The energy it had stored within transferred itself willingly into the starving crystal, stirring it back to life. Wraith took a step back and looked at the tome in his hands, opening to the first page and starting to read the unknown language aloud.

_Good, my child. You are doing well. With these first pages the dawn of a new era will be realized._

Wraith smiled, warmth washing over him the likes of which he had never known before as he finished the first page, turning it to the next. The dawning of a new era would be brought about by his efforts. The bloodlust was gone, replaced by a strange elation that left him feeling lighter than air. Even the tome, which once let its thick weight be known as he carried it, now felt like a feather in his hands as he continued to read from its pages.

_Be well, my child. I will be watching in silence until you draw nearer the end of your task. Then all will be revealed and you will be granted your reward for your dedication._


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter XVII

Cyrius had witnessed storms before. A few tornados, brilliant lightning storms, but nothing that could compare to the massive scale of what now loomed in the skies overhead. Black clouds circled ominously as streaks of lightning traversed what could only be described as a wall. The thunderheads were rolling violently, wind howling and strong enough that trees were beginning to uproot themselves, others simply splintering from the force. The center of the storm, however, was different. Dhark stood in the center of the hurricane, a strange glimmer of sunlight pouring through the eye to illuminate the druid as he worked. Cyrius, not one to wish braving the storm itself, kept very close to his brother, awestruck by the sheer display of power. It was, while manipulation of nature itself, a feat that could only be born of true, pure magic.

Dhark stood amidst what could only be described as a tornado of dirt and other earthly debris as he channeled energy from the ground skyward, directing the flows as he wished to bolster and balance the storm. His body was glowing, not with the white glow that Myriad or even Seiver would show when they practiced their form of magic, healing, nor even akin to the crackling aura of purple and blue arcane energy that Flyre had, or the dark aura that lingered around Wrayne during his spellcasting. This was different. Browns and greens swirled in a vortex as they were led skyward, shifting to gray to match the clouds overhead before becoming one with the storm. It was all energy taken from one source and sent to another. Nothing ripped from the arcane floes, or channeled from the depths of some unknown void. This was from nature, to nature.

Balance.

Cyrius snorted softly. Dhark had spoken more than once about the balance in nature, how everything tied together as forces never truly overwhelming one another, but meeting changes in strength with various other shifts. Sometimes they were slight, perhaps as simple as a leaf falling to the ground with the wind, or perhaps as strong as what he now saw overhead. Balance was being shifted, forcefully, and Dhark was using the earth to fuel the skies.

The druid took hold of the wind, guiding it, forming it, helping it push the storm in the right direction and the clouds began to shift north. The storm's eye started to move, crawling, then with increased pace as control of the elements was finally surrendered and handed back to the natural forces of the earth itself. Dhark straightened up, watching the skies with a look of both admiration and loathing, then turned to Cyrius.

"Come, we should leave before the trailing edge of the eye overtakes us. There is a natural alcove that will shield us, then we can begin to make up the distance that separates us from the others."

Cyrius chuckled softly and fell in alongside his brother, clapping him on the shoulder. "I must say, even after watching all of this," he gestured towards the storm overhead, "I still prefer my dagger. Very, very impressed, though." He let the smile fade and adopted a more serious tone. "Dra'keth and his horde will not know what hit them. Rest assured, if anything will cause enough destruction and turmoil in their ranks to even begin making up for what they have done, this will be a good start."

Letting out a slow breath as he refocused his thoughts, Dhark smirked. "An inland hurricane. Such a thing should not exist, and even though his magi and warlocks will undoubtedly sense it approaching, there is little they can do to stop it. Come, though, we need to hurry. It will pick up speed and we would be wise to be well sheltered when the worst of it passes overhead. This way." He began jogging deeper into the woodlands. "There's a spot where a small hill rises in the forest, there's a cave nestled in there we can use for cover."

"How long will this take to pass overhead?" Cyrius gave the storm one last look before starting after his brother, feeling the wind begin to pick up as the storm accelerated in its path.

"A few hours, I should think. I've redirected several of the wind currents to help guide it. Rest assured, though, it will slow considerably, almost to a crawl, once it has arrived where I have directed it to go."

"May I just say," Cyrius paused as he leapt over a gnarled, exposed root, "you druids are still very enigmatic to me. Wind is never simply wind with you. I look up, I see clouds moving. I do not see currents, nor do I ever see a small white puff of cotton turning into this!" Rain began to fall as the trailing edge of the eye moved closer, the howling of wind audible as leaves and other small debris began to blow. "Where's this hill of yours? Or, better yet, how do you even know it is there?"

"Not far. We're almost there. If you must know, a tree told me." Dhark glanced skyward, furrowing his brow. "I may have pushed it a little too fast."

"Now I know you're truly insane, talking to trees."

The ground began to slope upwards and Dhark moved towards an outcropping of moss covered rocks. Easily missed by the casual eye, they were indeed marking the entrance to a low ceilinged cave of sorts. Cyrius grumbled as he had to duck through the opening. More like a den, perhaps. A small one.

The ground of the den sloped its way downward and the tunnel opened the further they went. Outside, the wind began to catch the trees, and the faint snapping of limbs and branches filtered its way down into the darkness. Still, they continued to press on deeper into the tunnel.

"How far down does this go?"

Dhark chuckled. "It opens up further down into a hall with several mining shafts leading down, which is good. That will keep the water from flooding us out. If I understand correctly, though, this passage was once part of a greater system of mines operated by dwarves." Dhark paused, tapping his staff on the ground and muttering softly. Slowly, the head of the staff began to glow a soft green. "There, much better."

"So," Cyrius turned his head slightly to avoid being blinded as his eyes adjusted to the new source of light, "Dwarves. What happened to them?"

"Their torches apparently took away the air they were breathing." Dhark let his fingers brush along the tunnel wall as he walked. "Everything living breathes as we do, you can even hear trees sigh if you know how to listen. Once, while I was in my chambers and involved in my studies, I heard a forest being consumed by fire. Though I could not sense it myself, the forest screamed that the fire was alive, and some smaller animals that were not burned alive became trapped and suffocated as though underwater. The air they were breathing was stolen from them by the fire itself. The same happened to the dwarves, so they abandoned the tunnel, claiming it was cursed."

"Fire breathes." Cyrius snorted. "Druids never cease to humor me. So, what keeps us from dying due to there not being air down here for us?"

"Oh, it's long since remedied itself through natural means."

The tunnel began to slope back upwards and the two continued on in silence. The steady green glow from the staff was enough for them both to see by, and the steady downward sloping began to cease as the walls of the cave started to open. Light, pale blue flicker like fire, was visible as it reflected off the walls ahead of them. Soon, the dirt turned to rough stone, and then to smooth, formed rock as they rounded a turn.

A massive arch carved from stone greeted them, the heavy wooden doors propped open looking strong enough to stay a massive onslaught. On either side of the arch, statues of stout, bearded dwarves holding mining picks aloft in one hand and stone torches in the other kept a watchful eye on visitors. From either of the torches, the strange blue light poured forth, more than enough to light the entrance to the mines, while several more tiered along the sides of the arch itself provided even more lighting.

Dhark stepped up to one of the torches, reaching out to touch the light. "Stone," he pulled the glowing blue orb free of the torch. "Cold to the touch, feels smooth and polished. Nothing I've seen before."

Cyrius took one of the stones down as well, giving it a thoughtful look before tucking it away in a pouch on his belt. "This place reminds me of something I've seen before."

"Aye, M'alketh. This is more elaborate, though. Look at the stonework, no rough edges, very meticulous yet far more robust in nature. Perhaps the humans who made M'alketh were influenced by the dwarves." He tugged one of the torches free from the arch, handing it to Cyrius before getting one for himself.

"You know what frightens me most about all of this?" Cyrius gestured at the arch as he took the offered torch. "Where's the fire?"

Dhark furrowed his brow as he tried to make sense of the remark before it dawned on him. "I would have to agree. If torches were to blame…" he frowned, giving the opening to the mines a very long, studious look. "The fire stole their air."

"That is what you told me. Or, rather what the trees told you. Do the trees often lie?"

A low moan sounded as the wind from the storm blew through the tunnel, causing the wooden doors to creak on their hinges.

"Cyrius, how foreboding does the thought of pressing onward seem to you?"

Perhaps it was the chill in the air coming from the storm, or perhaps it was the uncertainty carried by Dhark's voice, but Cyrius shivered as he thought of the best way to answer. Part of him was all too eager to simply remain where they stood, content to wait out the storm with the watchful, towering stone dwarves. But curiosity urged him to press on, to find more potential tools like the glowing stones. If there was no logic behind the mines being abandoned, if there was a darker truth to be found….

"Press on." Cyrius reached for another of the glowing stones and rolled it along the ground through the doors. The blue light bounced as it rolled along, slowly coming to rest at what looked to be the base of a pillar. As if on cue, more blue lights faded into existence, framing the ceiling of a massive hall as they grew brighter to reveal a vast common area, a large stairway leading down further into the mining fortress while more stone dwarves kept watch on a balcony that stretched over a hundred yards deep to look over the grand foyer below.

"So," Cyrius lowered his torch and took a few steps into the halls, "did your trees tell you about this?"

Dhark stepped into the greatroom, fingers dragging lightly over the surface of one door until it could no longer be reached. "How far down did we go? Even the trees' roots don't see this far." He smelled softly at the air. "Magic. Familiar magic."

Cyrius sighed and rubbed a palm over his eyes as they adjusted to the lighting. "Familiar how?" He stepped past Dhark and glanced over the edge of the balcony. "I can't imagine we were moving downhill all that much."

"It was dark. Darkness tends to cloud the senses at times." Dhark took another step into the room, towards the stairs. The lights in the room dimmed sharply, the shadows pressing in on all sides with a weight that briefly pushed the air out of his lungs. Staggering, he took a few steps back, the pressure slowly releasing as everything returned to normal once more, though leaving him gasping and leaning against the doorframe for support. "Did…you see that?"

Cyrius gave his brother a confused look, stepping closer. "See what? You're out of breath. Did I miss something?"

Dhark took a moment to catch his breath. "This place, the magic, it is not natural at all." He pointed towards the stairs. "There is a ward, it suffocated me when I tried to pass through, and the magic smells like…it's the same as the gates Lycius opened when he called Xodius from the abyss."

Cyrius regarded the stairs, stepping towards them. Nothing prevented his approach, though, and after a few steps down he looked back to give his brother a curious glare. "I think you're going mad. I don't smell anything, don't feel a ward, nothing."

Dhark couldn't answer, his eyes were wide, expression frozen with a look of pure terror as he watched the shadows moving in. The lights grew darker as thin, whispy tendrils snaked from the black recesses of the greatroom, like vines overtaking a garden. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but the sound was swallowed up by the void.

Slowly, they began to encircle Cyrius, who still could not see anything, though now felt it. A strange sensation that made the back of his neck tingle unnervingly. He turned, hand moving down to his side to rest on the hilt of a dagger, just to feel the reassuring cool surface of the steel as the air began to grow thin. The light began to dim around him as he staggered, trying to move back up the stairs, though a misstep caused him to trip. Falling, he tried to catch himself with an outstretched hand, hissing as a sharp pain shot up from his right wrist. Both arms gave and he crumpled, rolling further down the stairs. He struggled to keep his eyes open, watching the light fade further. The blue crystals were still bright, and he realized the darkness was his own eyes failing as the last bit of breath was squeezed from his lungs. Then, there was nothingness. Nothingness with the odd sensation of falling.

The darkness was almost as suffocating as the trap had been. Dhark found his voice and tapped the base of his staff against the rock floor, green light flooding the room with a crackle and hiss. As the shadows were chased away, bare rock was revealed, along with the walls of the tunnel. Water was pooling at his feet, and it took him a moment to realize it was from the storm outside, the wind from which he could hear whistling through the tunnel behind him. Turning, the massive stone doors he had expected to see were gone, and after a few moments of study he found the stairwell, pillars, and indeed any sign of a dwarven mining kingdom were gone. It was the tunnel, nothing more.

"Foul magic," he recalled having said once before. Spitting to the side he raised his staff to see further into the darkness ahead. Something skittered away, keeping in the retreating shadows, though he saw enough to make out a tail covered in dull, dark colored scales.

It had all been an elaborate trap, something designed for a specific reason. He doubted that either himself or his brother was the target, perhaps just unfortunate to have stumbled upon the magical snare. The magic that lingered behind smelled foul, though, burning his nostrils like sulfur might. He tightened his grip on the staff and stepped further into the tunnel, water splashing lightly under his feet. Had the creature he just saw splashed as well? He raised the light up again. The water had yet to reach that far ahead.

"It is not wise to anger one such as myself!" He paused, listening as his warning echoed into the darkness. "Even more unwise is capturing my brother. Nothing guarantees swifter retribution."

Laughter? Something beyond the light cast by his staff moved again, a soft, hissing laughter moving with it. Dhark smelled the air again. Familiar. He paused, crouching to trace a sequence of runes into the ground by his feet before stepping forward again.

A pair of eyes, sharp amber, flashed into existence in the darkness beyond, the glint of metallic teeth just below them reflecting the green from his staff. He could hear the beast as it crouched, nails digging into the ground for purchase before springing at prey.

The runes he had etched allowed his own spell to release at a mere thought. A spike of earth, like a spear, drove up from the ground and through the beast, the sound of rock punching through metal ringing almost as loudly as the pained hiss that followed. Dhark took a quick glance around to ensure there were no other eyes watching him before stepping closer, raising his lighted staff to get a better look at his assailant.

Light chased the shadows until they caught the metallic glint of its scales, the wiry creature almost as long as he was tall. The stone lance had driven through its chest and out between the shoulder blades, a dark fluid almost like tar oozing down the rock from the wound. The claws and teeth glinted in the light. With a low hiss, the creature turned its amber eyes on Dhark, watching.

"Xodius?"

_So, you know that fool?_

Dhark shook his head to clear it. "Your eyes are wrong, you're thinner. Who are you?"

_Who I am is irrelevant. Who 'we' are would be a better question._

"We?" Dhark turned, directing the light from his staff to the shadows around him as the creature chuckled. "What's so amusing?"

_You. There are not more of us here. Your paranoia humors me._

"What are you?"

_What are we,_ the creature corrected. _A multiplicity. Numerous bodies acting as one. We are not I, we are not Me._

This was getting nowhere, and frustration was beginning to build as Dhark glared at the beast before him. "You said you know Xodius. How?"

_We said you know Xodius. Not us. However, it is true that we are familiar with the one by that name. Perhaps it is you that does not know him as well as we thought you did. Tell us, do you truly know who he is?_

"He was summoned by a master warlock, broke the chains with our help and freed my brothers and I." Dhark took a moment to circle the impaled creature.

_You know nothing, then. You see one of us now, do you not? Let me tell you about the creature you call friend. We think you will be pleasantly surprised._

Dhark finished circling the creature, stepping back into view of the glowing amber eyes. "No. I can tell already you will simply play games with my mind and waste time I do not have. I should have never asked these questions to begin with."

_Ah, but you did. There are two questions on your mind, two very important questions at that. One, how do you find your brother?_ The impaled creature chuckled again, though this time it was more of a hissing, hacking sound. _The other question is in regards to the one named Xodius. Is he one of us, and can he be trusted? The issue of trust has always been tucked deep in the back of your mind, kept from him. We know, he demonstrates so much power, yet is powerless to prevent the deaths of others at times. Ah! Is that the true question you have? Do you truly believe you are merely his puppet at times?_

"Enough!" Dhark's voice echoed in the caves as he slammed the base of his staff down. "What is your point?"

_We have little time. It seems that even we can succumb to the cold embrace of death, in spite of what we are. However, we have time enough to answer one of your questions. Only one. After that, we will return this one to the darkness._

Dhark closed his eyes in thought. The question to ask, he told himself, was simple. How to find his brother was the painfully easy choice to make. Yet, here he now stood, his mind buzzing with numerous others, most focused on the origins of the creature before him now, and the one leading them into the unknown of war. Xodius. He took in a slow breath and locked eyes with the creature.

_Chose wisely, and be quick. We do not have much time left._ The creature wheezed softly as the eyes seemed to dim. _Are you certain that is the question you wish to ask us?_

Dhark tightened the grip on his staff and nodded slowly. "It is."

_You creatures are so predictable._ The eyes dimmed further as one of the forearms raised, the thin-clawed toes curling into a fist with one pointing into the darkness. _The doorway you seek is there. Step forward and, with the strength we have remaining in this one, we will open it for you. After that, you will be on your own._

"Why are you helping me?"

_We said one question only. The rest you will need to discover for yourself. Now go!_

Dhark turned to face the darkness where the unseen doorway waited for him. He had no time to think it over, only to act on the faith that, for reasons unknown to him, the creature would honor its word. He stepped forward into the crushing embrace of the shadows, the same magic he had felt when the trap had sprung returning once more to rip a fissure into the very fabric of time, pulling him along with. He turned, just in time, to look back at the impaled creature and saw nothing. The stone that once impaled the creature was void of its victim, and in the darkness beyond all he could see was the burning glow of the two amber eyes before the world around him disappeared. The light cast by his staff was swallowed into nothingness, and he found himself falling through the void.


End file.
